New Beginnings
by Zeria
Summary: Sequel to A Charmed Prom. Chris and Molly learn what a lasting relationship really takes while a person from his and Wyatt's past comes back into town to stir things up. Meanwhile, a demon with knowledge of the future fights to bring darkness to power.
1. Sweet Renuion

**AN: Back by popular demand the story of Chris and Molly continues. . .**

**CHAPTER THE FIRST**

**Sweet Reunion**

Piper Halliwell swiped the thermometer slowly over her eldest son's forehead. When it beeped, she pulled it back to gaze at it in concern. The digital display read 100.9. She let out a slow breath and shook her head.

"Mom?" Wyatt groggily asked.

"You definitely have a fever. You're not going anywhere tonight."

The nineteen year old dropped his head back onto his pillow dramatically. "This sucks. I promised them months ago I'd babysit. Now, not only do I ruin my own New Year's Eve but Aunt Paige and Uncle Henry's too."

"They'll survive," his mother responded, holding out a glass of water. "You just take small sips of this until your stomach's better. Get lots of sleep, and I'll deal with your Aunt and Uncle."

Chris poked his head into the room, grimacing as he caught sight of his clammy looking older brother. "Hey, Wy. Not feeling any better, huh?"

In answer, Wyatt orbed out of the bed into the bathroom. Much coughing and hacking were soon heard followed by the sound of vomit splashing into the toilet.

The younger boy pulled a face and turned to his mom trying to block out the noises. "What do you think he's got?"

"Well, from what I can tell, I'd say the flu."

"That sucks. What about Paige and Henry? Wasn't he supposed to watch the cousins tonight?"

Piper suddenly smiled, tilting her head to the side. "You know, Chris, since you brought it up. . ."

"-No." The witchlighter emphatically shook his head. "I haven't seen my girlfriend in almost three weeks. She's finally home for break and free for a change. I'm not spending what time I have with her watching my baby cousins. No way. Not happening."

Wyatt slowly returned from the rest room, his skin a horrible cream of broccoli color. His blue eyes were glazed over as he looked at his sibling. "I feel like death. I hurt in places I didn't know existed."

"Sorry, Wy. I hope you feel better soon. Really, I do."

Piper let out a breath, "It's just shame that Paige and Henry are going to have to give up those concert tickets. I bet they were pretty hard to come by, and I'm pretty sure a refund is out of the question. If only there were _somebody_ willing to help out his own Aunt, a woman who would die for him in a heartbeat." She let out a dramatic breath. "Guess that's just too much to ask, huh?"

Her youngest child glared at her. "Not working."

"Isn't she the one who was babysitting us when Chris had the chicken pox?" Wyatt added, catching on to his mother's plan. "She waited on him hand and foot, did everything in her power to help him feel better."

Chris folded his arms over his chest. "I hate you both."

Piper's grin widened, "You're a good nephew, Chris."

"Molly's gonna kill me for ruining our first New Year's Eve."

Wyatt waved off his concern, "Nah, she loves kids."

The younger brother shook his head, "And to think I only stopped in here to wish you better. You so owe me."

"I'll make it up to you, Chris. Dinner for you and Molly on me. Promise."

Chris let out a breath, "I'll go call her and let her know."

"Thank you, Peanut," his mother said, her doe brown eyes shining with pride in the young man she'd raised. He really was a good kid underneath all that teenaged angst.

Wyatt opened his mouth to thank his brother again when he felt bile rising. He turned around and went back into the bathroom, shutting the door hurriedly behind him.

"Well, it could be worse," Chris surmised, "I could be Wyatt. . ."

Later that evening, Chris pulled up in front of his girlfriend's home, parking his father's old truck by the side of the road and turning off the engine. He fingered the pendant he was wearing. It was a black clay circle with the triquetra hand painted on it. Molly had made it for him the first week they were together. He'd never gone anywhere without it. He smiled fondly at the sentimental trinket before grabbing the small package lying on the passenger's seat and crawling out of the cab. He hurriedly headed to the door, ringing the bell.

It took only a few seconds for the door to open, Molly appearing with a radiant smile on her face.

Chris' mouth fell open at the sight of her. Her hair was in soft ringlets, her eyelids glimmering in soft gold, lips looking moist in an alluring red. She was wearing sleek black pants and a lavender peasant top that came in at the waist, the outfit making her vivacious curves all the more appealing. She might not have a model's figure, but in Chris' opinion, her body was more than sufficient the way it was. She was a full-figured woman, and she looked down right sexy.

Molly, noticing the look in her boyfriend's eyes grinned and gave a little twirl. "Like the new look?"

For his part, Chris could only nod.

His sweetheart laughed softly, shaking her head. "Wow, Chris Halliwell, speechless. I must look pretty good, then, huh?"

In answer, the young man pulled her forward, one hand behind her neck pulling her to him. He gave her a passionate kiss, welcoming her back with all the pent up desire he'd built up over the weeks since they'd last seen each other. She returned the favor, her own need for contact intense.

As the two slowly and almost reluctantly let their lips part, Molly let out a long breath. "Wow, I'm definitely going to have to thank Shannon."

Chris frowned, "Who?"

"A girl in my chemistry class. She's the one who took me shopping for tonight. After a kiss like that, I figure I owe her."

Chris smiled at the mention of yet another new friend. Molly really had found herself since going to college. She was like a whole new person-- confident, bold, and a bit of a spit-fire. Her boyfriend always knew those things were in her, but to see them blossom like they were was fantastic to witness. The transformation was even translating into their relationship. She wasn't as timid with him, and her own self-worth had made her sense of sensuality grow, making her even more irresistible in his eyes.

"Is that for me?" her voice broke into his thoughts.

The teen noticed her eyes focused on the small box in his hand. He nodded. "Yeah. It's your Christmas present, since we missed it, remember?"

Molly had spent Christmas with her mother and Grandparents all the way in Minnesota. It was a nice, quiet family gathering. The two had agreed to just celebrate Christmas and New Years all at the same time since both of them would be busy with family until then.

"Come in, come in," she excitedly ordered.

The nineteen year old gestured for the witchlighter to enter, shutting the door behind him. Then, with an excited bounce to her step, she disappeared around the corner of the entry into her mother's den, reappearing a moment later with a box of her own in hand. After Chris had kicked off his shoes, Molly took his hand and led him over to the sofa, gently pulling him down next to her.

Chris grinned at her giddy nature. She was completely adorable when she got like this.

Unable to wait a single moment more, he handed her the small, simply wrapped box, exchanging it with the brightly decorated one in her hands. Normally, he wasn't very big into getting presents, much preferring watching others open theirs, but she had him curious. It was a perfectly square box, quite light weight. He hadn't really asked for anything for Christmas, so whatever it was had been of his girlfriend's own choosing. That alone perked his curiosity.

"Can I open it?" Molly questioned anxiously looking at the tiny box in her delicate hands.

"Nope. You only get to look at it," her boyfriend teased.

She wrinkled her nose at him before lightly undoing the tape, trying to save the pretty green and red paper it was wrapped in. Unfolding one end, she slowly slipped out a white box. The young woman looked up at Chris, one eyebrow quirked in question. "You didn't..."

"Maybe. Maybe not," Chris smiled. He gestured for her to continue. "You'll have to open it to find out."

Biting her bottom lip in excitement, Molly quickly flipped open the lid, finding a tiny black box within the white one. The name Jarod's was on the cover. Her hazel eyes flicked up to her beau, tears starting to form already. "You did."

"Open it already," he urged, his pearly whites shining in the dim light of the Christmas tree in the corner. "I want to see it on you."

Her hands nervously opened the black box to reveal a necklace with three diamonds dangling in a row, connected by small strips of white gold. Smiling uncontrollably, she slipped the light weight box chain from the container, holding the pendant in her hand carefully, caressing the stones in awe. Her eyes shot up again, "Chris, it's perfect. It's just so gorgeous. It's too much though. I mean, how did you even afford something like this?"

"I have my ways," he answered mysteriously. When she gave him a look, he shrugged, "Okay, so I might owe my dad about a hundred lawn mowings and car washes, but mostly from my job at the restaurant. I've been taking on a lot more hours since you left for school. Besides, I saw you eyeing it that day at the mall over Thanksgiving break and couldn't resist getting it for you."

Molly leaned forward, landing a sweet kiss on his lips. She moved to pause by his ear, "Thank you. I love it."

He grinned, gesturing for her to turn around. "Here, let me."

She turned her back to him and lifted her hair as he took the necklace from her free hand and gently put it around her neck, clasping it. She lowered her hair and looked down at the stunning piece now resting on her chest. Then, her soft eyes looked up to him again, "How'd I get so lucky?"

"Magic," Chris immediately answered.

"Cute," she answered with a laugh.

After a moment of sweet silence, the young lady pointed to the box in Chris' hand. "Okay, your turn."

The witchlighter took a breath and then ripped off the paper, tossing it to the floor like an excited child. He frowned down at the small cardboard box, not sure what it could possibly possess within. Unable to stand the curiosity, he flipped off the top, only to be taken completely by surprise by what was inside. He gently lifted the CD into his hands, mouth agape as he stared at the signatures on the cover. His green eyes slid to Molly's smiling face. "How...I mean...is this..."

"Yup. I know they're your all time favorite band, so when I found out they were making a stop in Chicago, my roommate and I found out where they were doing a signing and waited in line for a few hours. I was the last autograph they did for the day."

Chris shook his head staring at the scrawling scripts on the cover, his head still reeling from the surprise. "I can't believe it. This is just too amazing."

"So you like it?"

The young man shot her a look, "Are you kidding me? This is the best gift I could have ever hoped for. And you tell me _you're_ the lucky one?"

Closing the distance between them, Chris slipped his arms around her pulling her close, "You're amazing."

Then, the proximity being what it was, the young man moved his lips to hers. Picking up the intensity, he moved them both lower on the sofa, teasing her ear before going down her neck while slowly leaning the both of them backwards to a lying position. His free hand began to roam down her side. Slipping one hand up the back of her shirt, he started working on the hooks of her bra.

Molly took in a deep breath as the hooks of her bra came undone, and her boyfriend's hands started caressing her. She ran her hands through his silky brown hair, guiding his lips back up to hers. Her mouth pressed harder against his as pleasure ran through her.

Chris, one hand moving to support her head, let the other starting heading for the button of her pants. He had just started on it when his girlfriend let out a complaining groan.

"What?" Chris asked, stopping and looking into her soft hazel eyes.

His girlfriend pointed to the clock, "Your cousins. We're going to be late if we don't get going."

"They can wait like...twenty minutes?" he suggested, returning his minstrations to her neck, his hand returning to her pants, fingering the button again.

Molly gently pushed him back, moving his hand. "Chris..."

"Okay, okay. I know." He ran a hand through his hair. "Can't blame a guy for trying, right?"

The young woman blushed slightly. "It's just. . ."

"I know, Molly. I'll wait," he brushed the hair from her face. "You're worth the wait."

"I love you," she offered.

Chris grinned, "Don't worry. I know. I love you too. But, you're right. We should head out. Paige'll have my head if we aren't there on time."

"Right," she agreed. "Better get going."

The brunet raised himself off the sofa and extended a hand to his sweetheart, helping her to her feet. After slipping on his shoes, Chris reached over to the rack and got her coat, holding it out for her. She finished rehooking her bra then slipped into the proffered coat, her cheeks still on fire, though she hid it with her long black hair. As Chris held the door open for her, Molly smiled contentedly. Life was good, and the New Year promised to be even better.

tbc. . .


	2. Bad Moon on the Rise

**CHAPTER 2**

**Bad Moon on the Rise**

Chris rang the bell at his Aunt's home and shot a look to his girlfriend as he heard the sounds of chaos from inside the house. Someone had bumped into something, the object crashing to the ground. His Uncle Henry was yelling at his son about it. The girls were heard chattering away in the background at a million miles an hour. Paige was shooting orders to them, but Chris doubted they were hearing a word.

A few minutes later, Henry pulled open the door, a weary look on his face as he gave a tight smile to his nephew. "Hey, Chris, thanks for doing this on such short notice. Paige and I appreciate it."

"Sure." The witchlighter gently guided Molly in front of him using his hand in the crook of her back. "You remember my girlfriend Molly."

"Nice to see you again, Mr. Mitchell."

Henry nodded, shaking her hand. "You too. I hear you've made the Dean's list. Pretty impressive at Boston College. What are you studying again?"

As he guided the two teens into the entryway, Molly answered, "Psychology and human development. I really want to be a counselor, help troubled kids."

"I'll tell you, there's nothing more rewarding than setting a kid back on the right path," Henry confided.

Paige entered into the entryway then, her salmon dress swaying as she hurried over. She looked to her husband and rolled her eyes, "I think I finally got them straightened out. I swear, this is payback for what I put my parents through."

"That right there, so not making me want to do this," Chris put in.

His aunt smiled at him, giving him a quick embrace, "Hey, Little Man. How's it going?"

"Well, I'm babysitting on New Year's Eve. What do you think?"

The youngest Charmed One brushed him off, "They'll behave for you. You're not the enemy. Besides, the twins practically worship the ground you walk on. You could tell them to go to bed at nine after they finish their creamed spinach, and they'd do it. Though," she narrowed her eyes, "No waiting until you see the headlights to put them to bed this time, Mister. Henry Jr. gets to stay up till the ball drops and that's it. The twins can be up a half an hour later. Got it?"

"Hey, the sooner they go to bed the better, as far as I'm concerned," Chris defended.

"That's just because Molly's here," his aunt deducted. "By the way, it's nice to see you again."

Molly smiled, "You too."

Paige turned to Chris conspiratorially, "Bottle of bubbly in the fridge for you two. You tell your mother, and I will deny the whole thing. Also, the spare room is made up for Molly. Chris, you can take the couch."

"Couch?" her nephew whined.

His aunt quirked an eyebrow, "And you better be on it when we get back."

"You wouldn't have been at my age," Chris replied.

Henry stifled a laugh, which earned him a sharp look from his wife, who turned back to her nephew, "I mean it. No funny business at my house. Your mother would blow me into tiny little pieces."

"So if it wasn't _in_ your house, per se. . ." the young man challenged, mischief shining in his eyes.

This time Henry couldn't hold back, a hearty laugh escaping. When his wife shot him another look he shrugged, "He is _your_ nephew, Paige."

"I give up," the woman announced.

Henry slipped her coat over her shoulders. Looking at Chris, "Prairie had an ear infection earlier in the week, so make sure she takes her antibiotic before bed; it's on the counter. Oh, and Henry Jr.'s been a real handful with his conjuring lately, so just watch out for that."

"Got it."

"Okay, you two, have fun," the man said on his way out the door, pulling his wife gently behind him as she reminded Chris that in case of emergency they were only an orb away.

Chris shut the door behind the couple, shaking his head. "Well, you sure you're still okay with this?"

"Definitely."

Just then, nine year old Henry Jr. came bounding into the room, his dark brown hair flopping around his ears. He paused just in front of Molly and grinned, looking absolutely adorable with one of his front teeth missing. "You're much better than Wyatt."

"Really? Why's that?"

The little boy grinned, an exact replica of his father's. "Cause you're a lot prettier."

Molly's face lit up into a large smile as she bent to his height. "That's so sweet. You're a pretty handsome guy yourself."

"This is for you," the child announced, a purple carnation appearing in his hand out of thin air.

Chris folded his arms over his chest. "Hey, there. No using your magic like that."

"It's not personal gain," the little boy protested. "It's for Molly."

"Still. . ." the older cousin argued. "Don't do it."

Henry leaned over to Molly's ear whispering, "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Hey, I heard that," Chris protested. "Back off you little thief. Get your own girlfriend."

Molly laughed. "I don't know Chris, he is a lot cuter than you are. . ."

Her boyfriend rolled his eyes.

"Hey, Molly, wanna come see my Christmas present?" the little boy asked, grabbing her hand and tugging.

Molly shot a look at Chris and shrugged, "I guess I'm going this way."

"Henry, stop pulling at her. It's rude."

"I'm no-ot. She wants to come see, right? Right?"

"Sure," the future whitelighter responded. "We'll be back in a minute."

As he watched his little cousin drag his girl up the stairs toward the child's bedroom, the young man shook his head. "Out done by a nine year old."

"Chris," a chorus rose up in the voices of his two twin cousins, Prairie and Persephone, both newly turned twelve.

He smiled over at them, grinning at their contradicting outfits. Lately, the two had been desperately trying to look as different as possible. Persephone had chopped her hair chin length in an edgier look, also opting to die her hair a bright red. Her outfit screamed rebel– black hooded sweatshirt, short black pleated skirt and bright green tights with black and purple sneakers. Her sister had gone the other way. Prairie kept her naturally brown hair long, flowing down around her shoulders. She wore a fluffy pink sweater and blue jeans with white sneakers.

"Hey, guys," Chris smiled as he felt two sets of arms wrap around his waist.

Prairie frowned, "I thought Wyatt was watching us?"

"Yeah, what happened?"

"The flu."

"Awesome," Perse declared.

"That's not nice," her sister chided. "Wyatt's sick on the New Year."

"But now we get the cool cousin," the other twin argued.

Prairie looked thoughtful, "Well, that's true."

"Oh, Chris, guess what I got for Christmas?" Perse excitedly questioned. "A hover board. Just like the one you have. Could you teach me how to ride?"

"Sure. It's really not that hard once you get the hang of it."

"She'll never get the hang of it," her sister commented.

"Will too."

"Nu-huh."

"Shut up."

"You shut up."

A shrill whistle cut the argument off at the knees. Chris let out a breath, "Okay, rule number one for the night, no bickering. Tonight is going to be as calm as possible, got it?"

"Cause Molly's here," Perse stretched the phrase out, grinning. "Oooh, are you guys gonna kiss when the ball drops?"

"Oh, Molly, I love you soooo much," Prairie mimicked dramatically.

Her twin turned her back to the other two, wrapping her arms around herself, pretending to kiss someone, "Molly, marry me. I need you, I can't live without you. Mmmmm."

Chris rolled his eyes, putting his hands on his hips, "You two planning on giving me grief all night?"

"Yes," they answered simultaneously.

"Yeah, see, I don't think so," their cousin replied grabbing them both in his arms and lifting them off the floor. As they squirmed, laughing and crying out for him to put them down, he marched into the livingroom, "What's that? You want down? I don't know why I should. . ."

Perse, still laughing, cried, "We won't give you a hard time anymore."

"Yeah, we're done."

"Promise?"

"Yes," they both answered.

"Okay, then." Chris dumped them both on the sofa. "Now, what do you guys want to do?"

Perse suddenly shot straight up on the sofa. "Oh, hold on, I have something for you."

The pre-teen jumped up off the couch, running into the adjoining kitchen.

Chris looked at the girl left behind. "Should I be worried?"

"Always."

"Here," Persephone said, returning a moment later. She held out a slip of paper to her cousin. "You'll never guess who it's from."

Chris frowned, taking the paper in his hands and unfolding it. He could have been knocked over by a feather when he saw what was on that piece of paper.

_Chris, _

I really need to talk to you. It's important. New cell– 315-299-2325.

Casey

Casandra Alvarez. Casey for short. He couldn't believe it. He hadn't heard from her in almost a year. Her family had moved to Puerto Rico when her mother had gotten a job there teaching English at one of the Universities. Before they'd lost touch, Casey had been a good friend of his, a fellow witch he'd met in one of his classes at magic school. In the end they'd even been a bit more.

"Earth to Chris," Perse called.

Prairie shook her head, "You shouldn't have given it to him."

"Why not? She asked me to."

"Because he's with Molly now. I thought we said we were going to toss it in the garbage."

Chris' head whipped up. "When did you see her?"

"A few days before Christmas. She was in China Town with that friend of hers– the one that came with when you two took us for ice cream that time."

"Jessica." The young man shook his head. "Wow. I can't believe this."

Molly came into the room, Henry Jr. trailing after her. She tilted her head to the side. "What can't you believe?"

Chris tucked the note into his back pocket. He glanced quickly toward the television and gestured vaguely at it. "The actor in this movie. He's awful. Can't believe he could even get a job in the biz."

"Well, Henry has just requested that we throw in that new Disney film, so if it's okay with the girls, I thought that'd be a nice way to pass the time until the ball drops."

"Sure," the twins responded simultaneously.

Chris nodded, moving to the movie cabinet. Perusing the selection he found the brightly colored packaging belonging to the happy go lucky movie of the month and yanked it out of its slot. Closing the door behind him, he stood, moving over to the player and sticking it in. After a few moments the title screen came on. He hit play and moved back to sit on the love seat while the three kids occupied the entire couch.

"You all right?" his girlfriend quietly questioned, taking a seat on the arm of his chair.

"Yeah," the teen quickly responded. "I'm good. Let's watch the movie. Haven't seen this one yet."

Molly quirked a dark brow but remained silent.

An hour and a half later, the animated film was at an end. Henry had, by this point, crawled onto Molly's lap and was more than half asleep. Perse was complaining that the main female character was a wimp and that if her mom were in the film the evil wizard would have been history after the first ten minutes. Prairie agreed on that front, but felt the prince made up for the heroine's short comings. He was, in her words, dreamy. Molly was staring at Chris, who hadn't changed expression during the entire show, his thoughts far away from this particular livingroom. She'd have to have a talk with him once the kids were asleep.

Chris couldn't stop thinking about Casey. It was just so random. Her running into his cousins like that, giving them that note. Did she expect them to just pick up where they left off? Because it wasn't going to happen. He loved Molly. The real question was, though, should he call her? Just as a friend. After all, they'd been friends longer than they had been. . .not friends. No, that'd probably be a really terrible idea. But, she did say it was important. . .

"Chris," Perse's yell drew him from his thoughts.

The young man looked up just in time to see some sort of demon pull out a laser whip and crack it at the kids, who all orbed out just before the piece of furniture was ripped in half. Chris jumped to his feet, waving his arm at the attacker, sending the guy flying backward into the wall.

"Chris, what should we do to help?" Perse asked as she and the other two children reformed.

"Get your siblings upstairs and use the crystals," the older witchlighter ordered. "I'll take care of him."

The three went up in a swirl of lights once more.

Molly yelped as a female version of the same whip happy demon appeared behind her, aiming her weapon for the young woman's head, which would have been taken clear off if she hadn't had the sense to drop to the floor.

Her boyfriend spotted the newcomer and turned his wrath on her, skewering her with the fireplace poker he whipped at her chest with his telekinesis. The female demon let out an ear drum bursting scream before going up in flames like a piece paper lit with a lighter, her body practically shriveling to nothingness.

However, while she went screaming back into the pits of hell, her friend was already recovering and threw an energy ball at Chris, who ducked just in time to see the family photo hanging on the wall get burned and crash to the floor.

Molly ran for her purse, coming back with three potion vials in hand. When she reentered the room, Chris was on the ground, wrestling with the demon, who was trying the slice the witchlighter open with his newly conjured athame. "Chris, orb."

Without question, the young man disappeared in a shower of lights just as the woman he loved tossed one of the potions at the remaining demon, who had followed Chris' lead and shimmered out, causing the potion to land on the floor, burning a large whole into the carpet.

Chris reappeared next to Molly, "Get upstairs. The crystals will protect you."

"No way. I'm not leaving you down here to face this thing alone."

He could tell by the look in her eyes that there would be no point in arguing with her. He let out a breath and kept a lookout for the demon. To Molly, "Throw at anything that moves."

The air rippled in front of the main window. Molly took aim and nailed the demon in the chest just as he reformed. He went up in a shower of flames, his cries piercing the evening air. Unfortunately, he was standing a bit too close to the curtains when he exploded, and now the youngest Charmed One's drapery was in flames.

"Shit," Chris cursed, orbing out.

Reappearing a moment later holding a fire extinguisher, the witchlighter made quick work of the flames. When it was all out, he gazed wearily at the damage. The couch was split in half, the photo of the Charmed Ones hanging on the wall was destroyed, there was a whole in the carpet, and now, the curtains were pretty much rags, smoke damage all over the neighboring wall. Paige was going to kill him.

Molly's eyebrows shot up, "Paige is going to kill us."

"Well, at least we know those all-purpose potions I made for you work."

His girlfriend laughed, wrapping her arms around his waist and nodding.

Perse came back down first, peaking her head over the banister. "Are they dead?"

"Yeah. Come back down."

"Will there be more?" his girlfriend questioned. "Normally, they keep coming back."

Chris let out a breath. "I'll call mom and let her know. She can figure out what to do."

"You don't have a plan?"

"No."

Molly frowned, "No desire to go look at the Book of Shadows?"

Her boyfriend narrowed his eyes and tossed a look back at her, "No. Why?"

"It's just. . .that's your thing. That's all. I figured you'd be all over this attack. I'm just worried."

"Can't I have an off day now and again?"

Molly held up her hands, "Whoa. Calm down. I didn't mean anything by it. Why are you biting my head off?"

Chris ran a hand through his hair, groaning in frustration. "I don't know. I'm sorry. It's just. . .it's New Years Eve and nothing is going the way I wanted it to."

He shook his head at the sight of the room. He cringed as a piece of cushioning floated down through the air in front him. "What a disaster. It'll take the rest of the night just to clean up this mess."

"No it won't," Perse argued. "I learned this from mom: May the object of objection become but a dream as I cause the scene to be unseen."

In a flash, lights covered the room, shining over everything until suddenly vanishing, leaving everything as it were before the attack.

"Personal gain," Chris automatically lectured.

Perse shook her head, "No it wasn't. I saved your date with Molly. So not personal."

"Go get your brother and sister," the cousin wearily replied. "The ball's going to drop soon."

As he watched his cousin run up the stairs Chris had a feeling the ball wasn't the only thing going to drop tonight. As he felt the note's presence in his back pocket, he knew that any moment a shoe would join it, and any hope he had of enjoying his New Year's Eve would be ruined.

tbc . . .


	3. Blowout

AN: The reviews for the last chapter were _reeeeeally_ few. Did I lose people? If something is fundamentally wrong with the story-- let me know so I can fix it. :)

CHAPTER 3

Blowout

Chris poured the last of the sparkling cider into a small glass and handed it to little Henry, who gripped it tightly with both hands as per his cousin's directions. After all the damage they'd already had to repair to Paige's livingroom, Chris didn't want dropped beverage added to the list of problems. 

"Chris, hurry up, the ball's gonna drop in two minutes," Prairie called from the sofa.

The teenager grinned at his girlfriend, "Ready?"

She smiled and nodded, bracing herself as the witchlighter put his thumbs against the cork of their champagne. As he started pushing, she started wincing, waiting for the loud pop. When it didn't immediately come, she opened the eyes she had instinctively shut. "Need help?"

"Nope, I got this." He gave a final push, sending the cork flying up, but the decadent drink followed suit. "Shit."

Molly couldn't help laughing as Chris was forced to rush to the sink so as to not spill the drink all over the kitchen floor. She laughed harder as he put his mouth over the top, drinking the fizzing volcano of champagne.

He pulled the bottle away as it finally stopped gushing. Glancing back at his girlfriend he gave a little shrug. "Well, it's good."

"Glad to hear it," she replied, still laughing.

"Would you pretend for just a second that I'm your boyfriend and you respect me, and oh, I don't know, stop laughing at me?" he joked, starting to pour the wine into the two small glasses he'd pulled from his aunt's cupboard.

Molly shook her head, her dark ringlets bouncing, "Can't do it. Takes all the fun out of the relationship."

Chris handed her a glass while smoothly sidling up against her, landing a gentle kiss. He pulled away with a grin, "Hey, at least I'm good at something."

"No argument here."

Perse's voice rose from the livingroom, "You gu-uys. You're gonna miss it. Stop making out and get in here."

"After you," Chris said, sweeping his arm in a grand gesture.

"Why thank you kind sir."

The twins rolled their eyes before glueing them back to the television.

As one the five people began to chant, watching the ball drop on the television, its silvery glitter shining brightly even through the camera lense. Inch by inch it moved down the pole. "Ten. Nine. Eight. Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two. One. Happy New Year!"

Chris smiled, leaning over to his girl and giving her a chaste kiss. The twins gave one another a most rare embrace these days before clinking their glasses and sipping their sparkling cider. Henry Jr. started to pout, feeling a little left out, but Molly noticed and gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek, making the little boy smile brightly.

"Tradition time," Prairie announced. "Resolutions. Mine is to get an A in math for once."

Her twin rolled her brown eyes. "Should have expected something like that from you. Me? I want to get so good on the hover board that I can even kick the guys' butts on the ramps. Which should be no problem with Chris' help."

"You used to jump ramps?" Molly asked. "I didn't know that."

Chris shrugged, "Not a big deal. I wasn't a tournament runner or anything."

"He's being modest," Prairie supplied. "He could have out done anybody. That's the truth."

Perse nodded, "And someday I will too."

"Sure will," her cousin agreed.

Prairie turned to her little brother, who was finishing up the last sip of his cider. "Well, how about you? What's your resolution, Henry?"

"No more accidental conjuring." Henry glanced over to Chris, "I made an elephant in the backyard just by thinking it once. Dad screamed and Mom got real mad before she found out I didn't mean to."

Chris smiled fondly at the boy. "You'll get the hang of it. Don't worry. At least you didn't completely annihilate things every time you lost your temper. Wyatt destroyed more of Mom's furniture growing up than any demon ever did."

Henry laughed, obviously feeling better.

"So, Chris, what's your resolution?" Perse asked.

The teen took in a breath, tossing ideas around in his head for awhile before coming up with what he really wanted to change about himself in the upcoming year. "I am going to stop letting Chef Richards push me around in the kitchen. He's been riding me since day one just because I'm the boss' kid, and he hates that I got a free leg up into the business. Too bad. I'm good, and it is way past time for him to stop riding me."

"Here, here," Molly agreed, raising her glass. "You tell him."

Henry looked up at his cousin's girl and smiled, "What about you?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. What's yours?"

"Hmm. . .that's pretty tough. Life is just about perfect right now. I'm not sure there's anything I really want to change." A thought suddenly struck her, "Oh, I know. How about my resolution be that I enjoy every day more fully. Instead of just running around like a crazy person, really stop to enjoy the little things."

"That's a great attitude to end the evening with," Chris put in. As whines abounded followed by pleas for just a little more time awake and having fun, the babysitter rose from his place, shaking his head. "You two get a little longer, but Henry, time's up, Buddy. Let's go get you ready for bed."

"Okay," the little boy rose from his place at Molly's side. He gave the girl a kiss on the cheek, "Night, Molly."

"Night, Henry. Sleep well."

Chris gestured for his cousin to follow him up the stairs, and before too long the boys were out of sight.

Molly smiled at how naturally good Chris was with the kids in his family. She really didn't think he was even aware of his ability to get them to comply with him so easily. Perhaps, it was simply because he never had any doubt they would. Chris rarely had doubts when it came to accomplishing anything. She envied him his confidence sometimes.

"So, I think we're gonna head to bed early," Perse announced, giving a fake yawn to go along with her melodramatic stretch. "Cause, it's late and we're soooo tired."

Prairie frowned, "I'm not tired."

"Yes you are," Perse argued, shooting her a pointed look.

Her twin understood then. "Oh, you know what, I think you're absolutely right. Off to bed for me. Slee-py."

Before Molly could even open her mouth to ask what exactly the two girls were up to, they had orbed off upstairs. She imagined if Chris were sitting there he would have lectured them on using the stairs instead of their magic, but he wasn't, and she wasn't about to incur the wrath of the twins. She'd heard horror stories from Wyatt.

Not really knowing what to do with herself, the young woman started picking up the empty glasses on the coffee table and taking them into the kitchen, washing them quickly before drying them and replacing them in the cupboard. Just as she was wiping down the last glass, she heard Chris coming back down the stairs.

"Did you know," Chris began, "that I am an excellent story teller?"

Molly shook her head.

"Well, it just so happens that I wove a story so wonderfully dull that Henry actually fell asleep right there on the spot. Plus, I saw the twins getting ready for bed all on their own which basically means we're going to get some alone time after all."

"You purposefully told your cousin a boring story so he'd fall asleep?"

Chris grinned. "Yup."

"You're good," Molly replied, wrapping her arms around his neck, landing a solid kiss on him.

Her hands slid from around his neck, moving around his waist to pull him a little closer. As he began seeing to her neck, she let her hands slip to his butt. Unfortunately, where as she would normally love the feel of it, there was something crinkly. She pulled back and frowned. "You have something in your pocket?"

"What?"

"Something crunchy in your back pocket."

Chris reached behind him, pulling out the folded piece of paper, having momentarily forgotten it was even there. He frowned, realizing then that he had no choice but to explain it to Molly, which might actually be easier said than done. He ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Oh, yeah, this. My cousins ran into an old friend of mine, and she gave this to them to give to me."

"Oh." She smiled and moved to continue their kiss.

"I should be honest, Molly," her boyfriend continued, stopping her mid lean in. "I mean, I figure you'll find out anyway, and it's always best to hear from the person you love, right?"

Molly's eyebrows began to climb, "Uh, really not liking how this is starting. . ."

"No, no, no," Chris waved off her thought. "Not what I meant. It's just, I want to tell you about who this girl is before you hear it from someone else and get the wrong idea. That's all."

"Okay. You don't have to though. I trust you. If she's just a friend, she's just a friend."

"That's where it gets a little complicated," the witchlighter sheepishly went on.

"Complicated?"

"Well, we were just friends. For a long time actually. Then, one time at a Christmas party last year we sort of. . ." He drifted off, unable to articulate the situation any further to the woman he was currently dating.

"You slept together," Molly numbly supplied.

"Yeah. I mean, I did tell you I wasn't a virgin..."

"She the only one?"

"Yeah."

"You and her...you and I haven't..."

"Molly, don't go there. It wasn't like that."

His girlfriend folded her arms over her chest, unable to look him in the eyes in that moment. Her voice was soft and slightly hurt as she asked, "so, what was it then?"

"It was a drunken, stupid mistake. Just two people in bad places making one huge error in judgement."

"So you two were only together the once?"

Chris thought about lying. Really he did. Even had the words ready on his tongue, but for whatever reason, when he looked into her hazel eyes, so trusting, he found the truth coming out instead. "Not exactly. We sort of spent the rest of her time in the country, which was only a couple of months, as. . ." he gestured, not coming up with a less crude term.

"Bed buddies," Molly finally filled in. She shook her head, swallowing down the thousands of emotions swarming inside her. "Why are you telling me this?"

"She's back in town and wants me to call her; said it was important."

His girlfriend nodded, but her eyes didn't seem to be focusing on anything.

"You're pissed. I shouldn't have told you. I just didn't want to lie. Not to you."

"Not pissed," she answered. "Not. Just. . .not exactly happy to hear about this woman who has been with you- known you- in a way I haven't. Especially not with her wanting to get together with you."

Chris shoved his hands in his pockets. "Understandable. I'll toss the note in the trash right now if that's what you want. If you aren't comfortable with me seeing her, I won't."

"Don't. If you want to see her that's your call. I'm not your keeper. I trust you."

"You sure? Because you really look like you would be more comfortable if I didn't."

"Chris, stop okay. I said I'm fine."

Chris noticed a strange look enter her eyes just then. It wasn't one he'd ever seen there before, and to identify its meaning was impossible. He just knew, deep in his gut, that it didn't belong within those hazel eyes, and the very presence of this odd gaze made his stomach knot. It wasn't right whatever it was.

Just as Chris was about to question her further, Molly slipped a hand to the back of his head, pulling him down for a kiss. After showing a passion that didn't fit the situation, she moved her lips to his ear, her hot breath sending shivers down his back as she softly commented, "We do have that extra room until Paige and Henry get back."

Lightbulb.

Chris pulled back, a frown embedded on his face. "What did you just say?"

"The room upstairs," she went on, ignoring his frown. Instead, she moved her lips to his neck, the spot she knew he liked. "We should use it."

Power outage. All mental faculties currently down.

The teenager moaned as she sucked on the gentle flesh behind his ear. His eyes closed for a brief moment as the pleasure poured down over his head. "Molly. . ."

"Orb us up there, please?" she coaxed, her hand running over his firm pecs.

Chris honestly didn't even remember orbing. He felt her hands and her lips and her hot breath, but everything else just momentarily vanished from the face of the planet. He heard the command and simply obeyed on primal instinct.

It wasn't until she had gotten him onto the bed, his shirt was off and she was removing his belt buckle that the code red that had been flashing in his mind since he'd first noticed the strange look in her eyes became too bright to ignore. He gently pushed her hands away and sat up. "Molly, no. What are you doing?"

"If you don't know, maybe I need to try a little harder," she responded, her hands flying back to his trousers as she leaned to claim his mouth with hers.

Chris backed away, moving her hands again. "Stop it. I know what you're doing, but this isn't going to make you feel better. This isn't what you really want."

"Oh really? And you're the expert, huh?" The woman hissed back, wanting to yell but knowing it would disturb the kids.

Her boyfriend let out a breath. "You told me from day one that you wanted your first time to be on your wedding night. I get that. I respect that. Don't throw that away because you're jealous."

"Jealous? You think I'm jealous."

"You're throwing yourself at me after discovering the girl I slept with is back in town. What else am I suppose to think?"

"Maybe that I changed my mind?" She argued. "It happens you know. All the time. I mean, after all, I love you, you love me. It's New Years Eve."

She smiled, that unnerving look still gleaming in her eyes. "Maybe," she began, moving closer to him again, her eyes locked on his, "I want you." She nibbled his ear, her hand finally managing to pull away his belt. She dropped it onto the floor. "Right here." She unbuttoned his jeans. "Right now." She moved for the fly.

Chris' hand clenched the bed sheet in a death grip at the thoughts that were going through his head. He was in pain trying to stop himself from rising to the occasion. Her tone, the way she was acting so dominate, one hand caressing his bare chest while the other slowly lowered the zipper of his pants. It was surreal.

That's why it was wrong.

Just before she did something that would have completely sent him over the edge, Chris summoned up a will power he didn't know he had and moved away from her, off the bed. He redid his jeans, his breathing jerky still as he tried to get her to see reason one more time. "Molly, this can't happen. Not like this. I'd never forgive myself."

"Right," the young woman sarcastically said. Tears started forming in her eyes. "I get it. I throw myself at you, and you don't want me."

As she climbed off the bed and hurried toward the door, Chris tried to explain, but found it difficult having to speak to her back, which was making its way rapidly down the stairs. "Molly, stop. Would you just stop. It's not like that."

"Oh really?" Molly spat, grabbing her coat off the hook. "What is it like then, Chris? Because I just made a complete fool out of myself trying to seduce my own boyfriend, and it didn't even work. What kind of a woman can't get her own boyfriend to sleep with her? The fat kind, huh?"

"Ah, shit, not this again," Chris groaned. "You're playing that card now? The poor-me I can't do anything because I'm bigger than society says I should be crap? I'm not doing this again; I thought we were past this."

"I can't believe you just said that," the raven haired woman softly said, her eyes brimming with tears again. "You of all people. Besides, what else am I supposed to think when you so willing screwed that slut but won't be with me?"

"She's not a slut," Chris defended. "She was a friend, and you have no right to talk about her like that."

"Oh, now you're defending her?"

"She's a friend."

Molly shook her head, throwing her purse over her shoulder. "Well, then maybe you should go be with her tonight instead."

"Maybe I will."

"Fine."

"Great."

She threw open the door, storming out.

Chris, still fuming suddenly realized something. He opened the door, spotting her on the sidewalk already. "Where the hell do you think you're going? I drove."

"I'm calling Bryan."

"And until he gets here you'll what? Wait out here?"

"Better out here than with a jerk like you."

"Jerk? I did you a favor back there."

"Who asked you to?" She shot back. She turned her back to him, so he wouldn't see her crying.

"Just get in here. I'll orb you home."

Molly looked at her phone, thinking about placing the call to her best friend. He had a horrible sense of direction; he'd get lost a hundred times before finding this place. It was kind of cold. . .

She turned around and marched back into the house. With arms folded she turned to face her boyfriend. "Fine. Orb away."

"Happy New Years," Chris bitterly remarked as he waved his hand at her, sending her back to the comfort of her own bedroom.

As Molly appeared on her bed back in her house, she fell to sobbing. It was quite possible she had just ruined the best thing that had ever happened to her.

tbc. . .


	4. Dangerous Liaisons

CHAPTER 4

Dangerous Liaisons

Piper Halliwell was a good mother. She hadn't always thought that would be the case. In fact, when Wyatt was little, she'd been absolutely certain that she would be the worst mother in the history of the world. After all, she had discovered that he would grow up to the Source of All Evil in one timeline. That certainly hadn't been the best ego boost. Plus, there was Chris. She was positive for a good long while that he would grow up to hate her. Thankfully, neither of those horrible possibilities became reality, and she was, at this point, confidant in her motherhood and her relationships with her children. For this reason, she knew as soon as Chris entered the door that something was wrong. 

"Hey, Peanut, what's wrong?"

Chris put his coat on the hanger, kicked off his shoes and headed straight for the stairs.

"Freeze, Mister."

He paused, one foot in the air. Reluctantly, he turned to face his mother.

"What happened last night?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Piper gave a little snort. "Riiight. That's why you look like someone ran over your puppy. Come on, Chris, give your old mom some credit here. I think I know you well enough to tell when you're okay, and when you're not."

The teen nodded, his chestnut bangs falling into his eyes. He bit his lower lip, "Is it okay if I don't want to talk about it right now?" 

"Of course, Sweetie. Just know that when you are ready, I'm here."

He nodded again before turning around and bolting up the stairs.

Chris hadn't battled with her about being fine. Hadn't raised his voice and claimed that she didn't know everything and needed to stay out of his life. In fact, her son hadn't pulled any of his normal defense mechanisms. Knowing her son like she did, Piper instantly knew that whatever had happened last night went beyond bad.

Well, she wasn't about to let her son suffer alone.

Marching up the stairs, the mother made a beeline for her eldest son's room, where the boy was resting in bed. He glanced up from his portable television as she barely gave him time to say enter after a brief knock. She smiled at the return of color to his cheeks. "Hey, Sweetie, how are you feeling?"

"Better," the teen answered. "Kept down the toast this morning and everything."

"Good, good," she distractedly said. She smiled at her son, "Wyatt, honey, I have a favor to ask, and I know it's not fair since you're not feeling one hundred percent, but I really need you to do this for me."

"Sure, Mom. What is it?"

"Get Chris to talk about what happened last night. I think something really bad might have happened, but as I'm his mother, he won't tell me. I thought since he tells you everything anyway, that maybe you could just make sure everything is okay?"

Wyatt nodded, "Yeah, of course."

"Great. Thank you, Wyatt." She paused before exiting, "Do you need anything? Juice?"

"Nope, I'm good for now."

"Okay, just give a yell if you need anything," his mother reminded him before gently closing the door behind her.

Wyatt waited a few minutes before yelling, "Chris. Chris get in here."

The younger brother poked his head into the room a couple of seconds later, a concerned look on his face. "Hey, Wy, what is it? Everything all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. It's you that seems to have problems."

"Me?" Chris' face dropped. "Mom sic you on me?"

"Yeah, she seems to think something catastrophic happened to you last night. And since she's mom, something catastrophic definitely must have happened to you last night. So?"

Chris folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorframe. "Nothing happened."

Wyatt raised a brow.

"I really don't want to talk about it."

"That bad?"

"Yeah." Chris lowered his eyes, "I'm just not ready to get all caring and sharing right now, okay? And I'd appreciate if you could get mom to back off too. I can't handle the third degree right now."

The older brother's eyes went wide. "Dude, you're scaring me. Seriously, are you okay?"

"Not really," the younger replied. "I'll tell you this much: Molly and I might be done."

"What? No way. You guys are so amazing together. What the hell happened?"

Chris shook his head, "I can't. I just can't. Not yet."

"Okay. But you said might, which means everything could be okay in the end."

"I guess. Look, I'll do whatever you ask if you could just let this drop and help me with mom."

Wyatt, sensing that the Chris-wall, as he dubbed it, had gone up full force at this point, decided he might as well just do as his sibling asked. Besides, he could use the situation to his benefit. "Anything? How about making me some of that home-made chicken noodle soup?"

"That's it? Soup?"

"Well, mom's busy making New Year's dinner for the rest of the family, but I'm not gonna test the waters with that food, so I thought soup might be good. You're a chef– think you can handle the challenge of good old fashioned chicken noodle?"

Chris grinned, "Yeah, I think I can manage that. Hell, maybe it'll help to be in the kitchen for a bit. It's the one place that makes sense anymore. I'll need to stop by the store first, can you wait that long?"

"For home-made soup, I'd wait all day."

An hour later, Chris actually thought his brother _might_ have to wait all day. The store was ridiculous. He couldn't count the number of times he'd been shoved, knocked around and generally abused in his attempt to grab something as innocuous as celery. Apparently, people hadn't gotten their New Year's Day meal in order before now.

He frowned at the little list he'd written up before leaving the manor. He had everything on it save one very important ingredient– chicken stock.

Moving toward the isle on his left, he slid his way through a large woman and her cart, which she refused to move after his repeated requests to do just that. When he finally got past her, he noticed a certain finger of hers raise into the air out of the corner of his eye. "Same to you," he muttered.

Glancing over the items on the shelf, his eyes finally found the appropriate label, his hand snatched up to grab what appeared to be one of the very last jars available when someone else's hand beat him to it.

He turned around, more than prepared to rip the person a new one when he saw who exactly it was that had swiped his item. A young, very busty woman with long light brown hair past her shoulders and ice blue eyes that were practically smirking all on their own was holding out the can to him. "Chicken stock? You're battling these crowds over artificial chicken flavoring?"

"Hey, Jess," Chris grinned, "How's the entire football team? Or have you moved on to the swim team?"

She maintained a completely straight face as she shot back, "They're absolutely fabulous, Darling, and you know perfectly well I would never steal the swim team from you. Now, as much as I love our insult hurling, I actually am here on serious business."

"Business? Don't your kind normally stick to corners rather than isles?"

She raised her eyebrow at him. "Hardy, har har har. You think you're soooo funny."

"I am funny."

"Only a little and not often," Jess countered. "Though, if you could help me out, I'd appreciate it."

"Sure, what's up?"

"I have to find Casey. She disappeared from my place in the middle of the night, and this is where the crystal dropped, but I can't seem to find her anywhere in this God forsaken crowd."

Chris frowned, "Wait. Disappeared? What do you mean?."

"You haven't called her yet have you?"

"No. Why?"

Jess let out a breath, her blue eyes growing soft, "I'll fill you in, but we should go somewhere a little less," she was interrupted by a cart ramming into the back of her shins. She glared at the man pushing it. "Crowded."

"Yeah, definitely. Just let me pay for this stuff, and I'll meet you outside in a few. We can talk in my truck."

Fifteen minutes, twenty-five dollars and about a million bruises later, Chris managed to escape the store with his purchases. He went over to his truck, grateful Jessica remembered what his vehicle looked like, otherwise, he might never have found her. It was almost as much of a zoo outside the grocery store as it was inside.

Opening up the passenger side door, Chris gestured for her to climb in. Once she was up and seated, he closed the door and crawled over to the other side. He turned to face her and was surprised to see her normally cool eyes filled with warm tears. He'd never seen her cry before. "Hey, we'll find her okay? Everything will be fine."

"You don't understand," she started.

"Then tell me so I can."

"Casey's dad is dead, Chris. He was murdered by a demon."

Chris fell back against the seat, his entire body feeling numb, as though he'd been dunked in freezing cold water. He swallowed, trying to get his brain to wrap around the concept of what she was saying. "When?"

"Couple weeks ago. That's why they moved back up here. Her mom wanted to be closer to family. She's doing okay now that she's back in California, but Casey's not. She's really really not okay, Chris. She's been acting totally different. I think she's hunting for demons."

"You think she took off from your place?"

"Pretty sure."

"I might be able to find her," Chris reasoned. "I mean, we have a connection, and while I'm not _her_ whitelighter, I am a whitelighter, so it's possible that if I concentrate hard enough I might be able to sense her."

Jess hit his shoulder, "You couldn't have said that _before_ I started panicking?"

Chris rolled his eyes before closing them. He lowered his head, trying to close off his thoughts to anything that might distract him from separating out the one essence that was his former best friend. He could feel Jessica's eyes staring into the side of his head. "Not helping."

"Sorry."

He took a deep breath, trying to concentrate. Just as he'd almost come up with something he heard a gasp from his passenger. He opened his eyes to see the all too familiar face of someone having a vision. He waited for her to open her eyes before asking, "What was it?"

"I know where she is, and she didn't go voluntarily."

000

Casey Alvarez could honestly say this wasn't how she had planned on spending New Years. Granted most of her plans had gone out the window the moment the coroner had shown she and her mother her father's mangled corpse, but even after that horrendous moment in time, the young witch had plans for her own life, plans to honor her father's memory by being the best person and witch she could be.

Those plans did not include getting kidnapped by his killer's henchman at the crack of dawn on New Years morning. In fact, the only plan she had regarding that particular demon was to vanquish him a thousand times over for what he had done to her father and the innocent woman he'd died trying to save.

She knew the demon had taken her somewhere underground, but the exact local was a little hard to determine what with everything being pitch dark and her own ignorance involving San Francisco's underground hot spots. She'd have to put a sewer tour on her to do list if she ever got out of here.

Finishing up the last line of a spell she'd been working on for an hour, she let out a breath of relief as the shackles holding her hands and feet unclasped and fell away.

She looked around, keeping an eye out for the demon, but didn't see him. She let out a breath of relief and started moving forward. However, just as she had taken her first few steps toward freedom, the face of her captor shimmered directly in front of her followed by the rest of his body.

The young witch flicked her wrists, backing up away from the approaching demon. When he kept approaching she swore under her breath while flicking her hands out again and again, hoping for a different result. No such luck though. For whatever reason, her power wasn't feeling like cooperating.

The man grinned with sinister glee as he realized what the little witch had just discovered: her powers weren't working. He rushed forward with inhuman speed, clutching her throat and ramming her up against the wall.

She struggled in his grasp, feeling her windpipes slowly closing off with his tight grip. In a surreal moment, she almost saw herself pinned against the wall, heard her own raspy, choked off breaths, and thought, "Huh, this really isn't how I pictured it going down..."

"This is familiar," the monster commented, "this is how I killed that woman. Nice and slow. That was right when Zayel was busy chopping your papa into tiny little pieces."

Casey raised her knee sharply into him, running as he bowed over with pain, but just as she reached the entrance into the main sewer tunnels, she felt hands wrap around her waist, throwing her into the cold muddy water.

"You're not going anywhere." He straddled her. "You don't come after Zayel without paying the price, Witch. First, I'm going to pluck the eyes right out of your skull. Then, with this little dagger here," he twirled the conjured blade in his fingers like it was nothing more than a pencil, "I'm going to slice into every inch of you before I rip off one arm, then the other. Next, I'm gonna shove it deep inside of you, tearing up all those nice internal organs, let the blood really flow."

"_Vete al carajo_, _Pendejo_."

"You kiss your daddy good night with that mouth?" The demon grinned, "Oh wait, you don't...cause my boss killed him."

She struggled under his grip, but despite the extra power boost from her rage, the demon remained stronger, pinning her to the ground. She tried to free her hands enough to freeze him, but couldn't. She wasn't even sure if it would work at this point anyway.

Luckily, it was at this point that the demon seemed to miraculously fly off her, crashing into the tunnel wall. Casey looked up to see her best friend rushing toward her, the other girl's arms wrapping around her.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again, or I swear I will hunt you down and kill you myself," Jessica started ranting before finally taking a deep breath and staring into her friend's face. "You're my sister. What would I do without you, huh?"

"Adopt a new friend to be your sister?"

Jessica glared at her. "We are not amused."

Meanwhile, Chris groaned in frustration as the demon shimmered from his grasp. He turned around to find Casey just rising to her feet with the help of Jess. She looked just the same as she had the day they'd said goodbye. Well, minus the muddy soaked clothing, the dirty hair and bruises. Still, the same long brown hair, smart mouth, and soft brown eyes. He smiled awkwardly, "Hey, Case."

The young woman's eyes grew wide and she ran over to him, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tight. "Oh, god, Chris. You have no idea how happy I am to see you."

"I heard about your dad," Chris offered solemnly, "I'm so sorry."

Casey pulled away, her eyes dimming at the mention of her lost parent. "Me too. One day he was with me and mom eating _tacos al pastor_ and drinking _agua de jimaica_ laughing about nothing at all, and the next. . ." she bit her lower lip, unable to continue.

Chris pulled her back against his chest, resting his head on hers, "It's okay."

"I missed you," she murmured into his chest.

"I missed you too," he responded.

"Not to break up this toothache inducing moment," Jess interrupted, "but we might want to get out of here before he comes back with some of his buddies. Some of us don't have active powers."

Casey pulled away from the embrace and nodded, wiping her eyes dry. "Right. She's absolutely right. He's going to come back. I've made him so mad he'll have half the underworld on my tail in no time."

"What did you do?" the witchlighter asked.

"Hunted for Zayel," she answered. "The demon that killed my dad. Along the way, I killed a lot of his followers. I've become a regular nuisance and now..."

Chris folded his arms over his chest, "Now, you're a target. What the hell were you thinking, Case? You don't have enough power to go up against an upper level demon, which I'm assuming he is if he managed to get the drop on your dad."

"Yeah, upper upper level," Jessica confirmed. "He used to work for the Source."

The young man turned a serious gaze on the other woman, "Are you insane? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Your only power is freezing, you really think that'll work on demons like him? Even if it did, what then?"

"What was I supposed to do, Chris? Let him get away with it? I want that son of a bitch back in hell where he belongs. That's why I got in touch with you. I know I don't have the power. I was hoping my one time best friend might be willing to help. If he's not too busy shoving his head up his own– "

"– Time out," Jess intervened. "You two both have fuses about a millimeter long, so I guess that means I'm the rational one right now, which should scare you both a hell of a lot. Now, first thing first. Casey needs somewhere safe to stay, Chris. Her mom's a mortal, and staying with me did no good whatsoever."

"You can stay in the manor. A demon wouldn't dare come after you there."

"Are you sure that's the best idea?" Casey questioned.

Chris ran a hand through his hair, "Not seeing another option at this point. Besides, you've spent the night a hundred times before, and my mom and dad were cool with it. You'll just crash in my bed while I take the sofa."

Jess nodded, "Good, good. Okay, now for the big bad demon– Case, no more hunting this thing on your own, and you tell Chris about your power problem."

"No, I really don't– "

"– Power problem?"

Casey let out a breath. "Okay, so my power might be a little...wonky right now. It's not a big deal."

"It's understandable given everything you're going through, but it's your only defense. I'll work with you on it. Okay?"

"Okay, and I won't go after demons alone anymore."

Chris added, "You won't have to. I'll tell mom and the aunts about it, and I'm sure they'll be more than willing to help."

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Jess clapped her hands together, "Okay, great. Can we go now?"

0000

Bryan handed his friend another tissue from the box. He had been with Molly for a couple of hours now, and the only thing he was able to get out of his best friend was that A. It was all her fault. B. Chris was an idiot. No actual story had been told, and the young man was reaching the point where he didn't think she'd ever actually tell him what exactly happened the night before.

"I can't believe I did that," Molly went on, blowing her nose again. She crumpled the tissue and tossed it into the already large mountain of kleenex in her trash can. "But for him to say that..."

Bryan lowered his head onto her desk with a loud bang. He repeated the processes a few more times being only slightly more gentle to his skull. "Molly, you're killing me. It's been two hours, and I still have no idea what you're talking about."

The girl smiled, laughing at herself, "God, I'm a mess." She glanced down at the tissues in the bin and shook her head, "I'm pathetic."

"Not pathetic. Just frustrating," the boy corrected. "Now, would you tell me what happened before my head explodes?"

"Chris had sex with this girl. . ."

Bryan rose to his feet in an instant, "I'll kill him. I will hunt his sorry ass down and kill him so much..."

"Bryan, down boy. It was a year ago."

The male paused in his rampage and turned to look at his friend. "Oh. So?"

"So, she's back in town, and I freaked out. I temporarily lost my mind. All I could think about was the fact that she and Chris are connected in a way he and I aren't. Then, all I could think about was her lips on his, her hands on his body, and the green eyed monster took possession of my body and mind, and the next thing I know, I'm. . ." she winced, unable to look at her friend while she went on, "throwing myself at Chris."

"What did he do?"

"Nothing," Molly answered. "He didn't want me."

"Uh, okay," Bryan formed a 'T' with his hands. "Wait. You were obviously emotionally distressed, and he actually was man enough to say no? Molly, that's a good thing. It means he loves you."

The girl looked up, "I know, I know. I see that now, but at the time...I just felt rejected. And then, god, we said awful things to each other, Bry. Really awful."

"He probably feels just as bad as you do. Tell you what, I'll drive you over to his place, and you two can talk it out now that you've both cooled down. Sound like a plan?"

Molly nodded her head, dabbing at her eyes one last time. "Yeah, you're right. I just know everything will be better when I see Chris again."

She had no idea how wrong she would be.

tbc. . .


	5. Smooth Criminal

CHAPTER 5

Smooth Criminal

Casey smiled as Jessica squeezed her tightly, the taller girl's head resting lightly on her own as they made their goodbye for the day. Chris was waiting in the truck while Casey walked back with Jess to grab some of the things still in the other girl's room. They were standing in Jess' room right then, Casey's bag slung over her shoulder as her best friend held her close. 

"You know that I couldn't deal if something happened to you," Jess continued. "So, you be careful, you hear me?"

The smaller girl nodded her head, slowly pulling back from the other. "I will. I mean, how much more protected can I get? I have the Charmed Ones and the Twice Blessed all under one roof."

"Are you mad I suggested it?"

"No," Casey shook her head, pushing her mud encrusted hair behind her ear. "It's just...complicated. Me and Chris that is, and this whole being under the same roof as him? I think we may kill each other."

"You never told him how you felt."

"He never told me how he felt."

"He was crazy about you, you dork. Everyone could see it. Hell, why do you think he hated Sam so much?"

Casey gave a little shrug. "Sam was a jerk."

"Who happened to be your boyfriend for a year."

"Until he cheated on me with Valerie Stateton New Year's Eve at Greg Mitchell's party."

Jess pretended to be deep in remembrance. "Gee, let me think...what happened that night? When you went sobbing to Chris? Let me think. Let. Me. Think...oh right. You guys had sex."

The other girl blushed. "He was drunk, and I was sad. It just happened. You're making too big a deal out of it."

"How long did you two continue your little affair?"

"Jess– "

"How long?"

"Two months..."

"Mhmm. Interesting. Very very interesting."

"What are you Freud now?"

Jess held up her hands. "I'm just pointing out the fact that you two didn't just make one little mistake. You two were lovers. Lovers who just happened to be best friends, which is generally the best kind. I mean, you were in love with him, right?"

"No."

The other girl quirked an eyebrow.

"Maybe."

She slapped her friend on the shoulder.

"Okay, fine. I was. So what?"

"So, be careful with more than that demon, Case. I don't want to see you get hurt."

"I won't. He chose to cut things off when I left. He didn't even come visit me once. I barely got a message a month. I'm not stupid. I got the hint." She hugged herself, her chocolate eyes dropping to the floor. "He didn't want me."

"Oh, sweetie..."

Casey lifted her eyes, a spark back in them. "That's okay. I'd rather be friends with Chris than nothing at all. We were too important to each other for too long to let this get in the way. I can forgive him for forgetting I ever existed as long as he helps me get this demon."

"I could kill that boy." Jess let out a breath.

"I'm done dwelling on it. It's over. Been a long time, in fact. Now? Now, I have to go before his head explodes waiting in that truck."

The blue eyed witch let out a breath, "Okay, okay. Just be safe, be careful, and say hi to Wyatt for me."

Casey grinned. "Still got that crush I see?"

"He's a Greek god, can you blame me?"

"I'll tell him you said that."

Meanwhile, out in the truck, Chris was fiddling with the tuner trying to find a station that played any sort of decent music whatsoever. So far, no luck. He did find a station playing only songs in Japanese, which sounded vaguely like cereal commercial jingles when one didn't know the words. He left it there just to amuse himself.

He glanced out the window again. She still wasn't back out. How much stuff did that girl have in there? She did realize that his mom would have whatever she needed for the time being, didn't she? She was just like his oldest cousin, Prue. She took forever to do anything. It was a female conspiracy to drive men absolutely nuts.

Wrapping his fingers on the steering wheel in time to some crazy pop Japanese song, Chris spotted Casey jogging down the steps, a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. When she reached the car, she opened the door, shoving the bag under the dashboard before hopping into the passenger's seat.

"Get lost?"

"Is that a question or a request?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "I take it Jess wouldn't stop talking long enough to let you leave?"

"Words of wisdom."

"Real pearls, I'm sure."

Chris shifted into gear and pulled away from the curb, heading back toward the manor. He drove in silence for a few minutes, not really sure what to say to the girl he hadn't seen in almost a year. They'd messaged each other back and forth, usually once a month or so, but the messages never really contained anything important. Mostly, they were a pretense, neither one wanting to breach any sort of personal level after what had happened between them.

"So, how have you been?" Casey started, though her face was still turned toward the window.

"I didn't tell you this, but I've been seeing someone," Chris answered.

Her tone was uncharacteristically stoic when she replied. "That's nice. What's her name?"

"Molly. We started seeing each other last April. I meant to tell you about her, but I wasn't sure. . ." he drifted off, incapable of finding the right words.

"If I would handle it well?" She turned to look at him and saw him give a little nod. The young woman rolled her eyes. "Pretty egotistical of you, don't you think?"

"I just didn't want to hurt you more than I already had."

Casey turned to face the window again. "You didn't hurt me. So, you're in love with Molly?"

Chris noticed the change of subject and made the decision to go with it for her sake. "Yes. I am."

"Don't think she'll be too happy about me staying in the same house as you," Casey pointed out. "I wouldn't be in her shoes."

"You're my friend. She'll just have to trust me."

The girl turned to look at him, a worried expression gracing her face. "You sounded kind of bitter just then. Is everything okay?"

"You really want to hear about this?"

"You said it: we're friends. You used to tell me everything. I was the first one you told when you french kissed Tori, remember?"

Casey suddenly straightened up in the seat, turning her body as much toward Chris as she could. She took in a deep breath. "I want a do-over."

"Do-over?"

"Yeah. I miss you. I miss us. The old us. The ones who used to conspire against the popular kids at school. The ones who used to stay up all night talking about everything from school to crushes to what makes better cookies– butter or shortening. Chris, you were my best friend, and I need that right now. My dad is _dead_. I put on a brave face, but I'm terrified here. I'm terrified and pissed and just so. . ." She changed her mind, redirecting the flow of conversation, "You know how things are with my mom. She barely remembers I exist, and when she does I'm not good enough. If I could erase what happened last year and just go back to how we were, I would. So can we?"

Chris let out a breath. "I know what you mean, but it's not like we can pretend it didn't happen. I screwed up."

"What are you talking about?"

"I let my feelings for you mess up our friendship that night," he answered, his voice soft. "You came to me as a friend, and I didn't act like one. Then, everything just got so complicated."

"Chris, why _didn't_ you keep in touch with me? Why'd you just cut yourself off?"

"You were going to be in an entirely different country. Orbing or no orbing, I figured you'd be starting a whole new life without me in it. I actually thought..."

"Thought?" she drew out.

"Thought it might be better that way," he answered, shooting her a solemn look. "I was a rebound, a one night stand gone wrong. I didn't want you to feel bad, and I didn't want to face the day you'd realize what you felt wasn't real. I thought it'd be best to just rip off the band aid."

She slugged him in the shoulder. "_Boboso. Idiota_. What the hell, Chris? I didn't get a say? You, big strong man have to make the decision for the poor little pathetic girl? What kind of caveman bull is that? It was my life too."

"I'm sorry."

"Fine." She let out a breath to calm down. "So, why are you upset?"

"What?"

"About Molly, your girl. Why are you ticked at her?"

Chris let out a breath. "She got jealous when I told her about you. We got into a really big, really stupid fight."

"What _exactly_ did you tell her?"

"You were the girl I slept with."

Casey folded her arms over her chest. "Please, tell me you didn't tell her everything."

"Not _every_thing. Just about how we kind of messed around for a couple of months."

"Why would you tell her that? Were you trying to make her see green? Seriously, with your gift for lying you couldn't have come up with something better to tell her than that? All that information is going to do is make her see you in a really bad light and see me as some whore who is prancing back into your life. No wonder she got jealous. You told her it didn't mean anything, right?"

"Sort of."

"It was a yes or no question."

"I told her the first time was a mistake."

"And the rest?"

Chris shrugged, "Wasn't exactly a mistake, was it?"

"Tell me you didn't tell her that."

"Of course not. But, she's got a brain. She realizes you were my first and only. It sent her off the deep end, and now, I really don't know what to do to fix it."

Chris pulled up in front of Halliwell manor and shut off the car. He exited and went around to open the door for his friend, grabbing her bag along with his groceries as she hopped out of the car. As the two headed toward the steps, he noticed the cogs in her brain going full motion. He paused just outside the door and turned to look at her. "What are you thinking?"

"I want to help."

Chris blinked. "What?"

"Well, I figure the fight was my fault– she saw the note I gave your cousins or something, right?" Off his nod, "Then, it was my fault you guys started fighting, which means as your best friend, I should try to make it better. So, maybe I could talk to her? Tell her that there is no way I would ever steal a guy from another girl, and that I have absolutely no interest in you in that way at all. I could invent a hot latin boyfriend if you think that might help."

Chris laughed at her excitement over the prospect of an imaginary boyfriend. He shook his head, "I appreciate the offer, really I do, but I think it's just got to be something we work out on our own."

"Okay, but Ricardo and I could have one hell of a romance."

The witchlighter shook his head, holding open the door for her. "Come on."

Piper poked her head into the entranceway when she heard the door close and was more than a little shocked to see Casey standing behind Chris. At first she didn't notice the mud encrusted clothes and dingy hair, all she could think of was how for a while she thought Casey might be Chris' soul mate. How this girl had made her little boy pine away for a year, and then they had been so unbelievably happy for a few brief months. More importantly, she thought about how it all somehow came apart when she left. Chris had been a wreck for so long after that. Until Molly came along that was. After all that had gone through her brain, she suddenly felt she knew why Chris and Molly might have gotten into a fight the night before if her theory on that had been correct.

"Hi, Mrs. Wyatt," Casey ventured.

Piper, putting aside all conjecture for the moment, just knew she was happy to have the girl here again. Aside from Chris, Casey was the only other person that appreciated the kitchen as much as she did. She used to bake cookies with those two when they were little. Casey was over so often, she had almost become the daughter Piper never had. So, she was quick to wrap the girl in a hug. "Welcome back, Sweetie. Oh, wow, just look at you. You've really grown into a beautiful young woman...well, aside from all this mud. What happened?"

"Demon," she and Chris responded simultaneously.

"Oh, that's too bad."

"Actually, Mom, she kind of needs to stay here for a while. I'll tell you and dad and the aunts all about it after dinner, but for now, just know she's in danger and needs our help."

"Okay, I take it your offering her your room?"

"Yeah, I figure I'll crash on the couch or on an air mattress in Wy's room. Doesn't matter."

"Well, it's fine by me. Do your parents know?"

Casey swallowed before softly answering, "Mom knows."

Some instinct told Piper not to ask about her father. Instead, she turned to Chris, "I've got to check on the ham and the rest of dinner, but if you two need anything just let me know, okay? Book's upstairs if you need it."

"Actually, I sort of promised Wyatt some soup, so I think I'll join you in the kitchen." He turned to Casey, "You remember where everything is?"

"Yeah, can I use your room to change and stuff?"

"Sure."

"Great, well, thanks for everything, Piper," she turned to Chris, "I'm just going to shower and then maybe lie down. It's been a long day."

"I'll get you up for dinner if you want," Chris offered.

Casey shook her head. "Thanks but I don't have much of an appetite these days."

"You should still eat something."

"I'm not hungry."

Chris, clearly not happy with her choice, bit his tongue. He didn't know what she must be going through, so it wasn't his place to push her. Still, he'd probably bring her up a special plate anyway.

Leo, who came in from the livingroom, just missed Casey as she hurried up the stairs wanting nothing more than a nice steamy, hot shower. He didn't even see his son, who had headed into the kitchen with the soup ingredients. He just smiled as he saw his wife, covered with odors from the kitchen. He gave her a kiss, wrapping his arms around her waist. "Need any help with anything?"

"No," Piper answered. "But be ready for anything because I have a feeling things are going to get pretty interesting around here."

"Oh, why's that?"

"Call it motherly intuition."

"The boys getting in over their heads again?"

"Just Chris."

Leo frowned. "Nothing too serious, I hope."

"I'll get back to you on that one."

It was then that the doorbell rang.

Leo kissed his wife again before telling her that he'd get it. As he moved to see who was at the door, Piper heard the timer go off for the ham and hurried back into the kitchen.

As he pulled open the door, Leo smiled upon seeing his son's girlfriend standing on the other side. "Hey, Molly."

"Hi, Leo. Is Chris here?"

The father gestured for her to come in. He shut the door behind her. "I know he's here somewhere. Probably upstairs either in his room or visiting with Wyatt. You can go right on up if you want."

"Thanks."

Molly headed up the stairs. Seeing that Chris' door was open and no one was there, she decided to check Wyatt's room. She poked her head into the open doorway and smiled as she saw Wyatt, his nose bright red, a pile of tissues stacked on his night stand. His normally soft blonde hair looked a little greasy and his eyes were a duller blue than she was accustomed to seeing.

"Still feeling under the weather?"

Wyatt smiled when he saw her. "Yeah, but I'm feeling a lot better now."

"Good. That's great."

"You looking for Chris?"

"Yeah, Leo thought he might be with you."

"Nope. I sent him to get soup stuff since I can't eat anything too heavy yet." Wyatt patted the bed next to him. "Come sit for a minute."

Molly obliged, gently setting herself down next to the Twice Blessed. She noticed the concern radiating through his eyes despite the tired glace in them. She let out a breath. "You know me and Chris fought I take it?"

"He didn't tell me what about. Just that it was bad. He was a wreck. I haven't seen him that messed up since..." Wyatt, deciding not to mention it, changed his wording, "a long time."

"What were you going to say just then?"

"Nothing."

Molly quirked a dark brow. "Wyatt, please. Be honest. It's about another girl, right? Maybe the one he was with last New Years..."

"You know about her?"

The young woman shot him a look.

Wyatt winced. "Oh. Hence the fight, huh?"

"Who was she?"

"You really should ask Chris."

"I'm asking you. As my friend and my whitelighter."

He shook his head. "That's low." After letting out a breath, he answered, "Casey. Alvarez. She was a childhood friend of his. The way Chris tells it he'd had a drink too many that night, and she was sobbing about catching her boyfriend in bed with someone else. Things just sort of got out of control. I wouldn't be jealous of it, Molly. I try not to be."

"What?"

Wyatt shrugged. "I had a crush on her back then. Chris knew."

"He knew and he still...?"

"It just happened."

Molly shook her head. "I'd want to kill him."

"I did punch him," the boy admitted. "The only time I ever did. But things are different now. He has you. He loves you in a way that is just amazing to see. Don't doubt that, all right?"

"I'll try not to."

"Good."

"Ok. Think it'd be okay if I waited in his room for him?"

Wyatt shrugged. "Why not?"

Molly kissed the blonde on the cheek before getting up from the bed and heading out the door. She went back down the hall, heading for her boyfriend's room when the bathroom door swung open and a girl clad only in one of Piper's linen towels came out. Molly's eyes went wide as she took in the sight of the tan skinned, dark haired, dark eyed teen now standing like a deer caught in headlights in the middle of the hall.

"Who are you?" Molly got out first.

Casey, panicking, didn't answer at first. "I, uh, I'm a. . ."

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" the other girl asked again.

Wyatt poked his head into the hall. Taking in the situation within seconds, he rushed to Casey's side, giving her a quick kiss. "Hey, sweetie, how was your shower?"

Casey, completely dumb stricken just blinked up at him.

The Twice Blessed turned to Molly with a goofy smile plastered on his face. "This is my new girlfriend, Isabel. We knew each other a long time ago but lost touch. Now that we've found each other again, we're giving it a go. Isn't that right, Pookie?"

Chris' former lover glared at the other witch for taking such thorough enjoyment out of her situation, but for Chris' sake responded, "That's right. Wyatt's just a...Greek God. Who could resist?" She wrapped her arms around him for added effect.

"Congratulations," Molly responded after a moment to process the bizarre situation. "So, you often take showers here?"

Casey, blushing with embarrassment, shook her head, her mahogany hair falling over her face. "No, no. It's just there was a demon attack and mud and water, and I'm staying here until the threat is over."

"Piper's okay with that?"

"Dire circumstances," Wyatt put in. "Mom's pretty cool about stuff like that anyway, though. You've spent the night before too after all."

Casey bit her lip, trying not to wince.

"Yeah, I guess," Molly answered.

The plan was going without a hitch until Chris came plodding up the stairs. His eyes landed on Casey's barely clad body, his breath hitching a little. Now that she was cleaned up, he remembered just how striking she really was. She had the dark, captivating brown eyes, the long mahogany brown hair, and stereotypical latin curves. Just a hint of her Dad's heritage coming through, he supposed.

"Chris," Molly greeted. "Hey."

Chris' brows went up as he saw his girlfriend standing by his former lover. Then he noticed Wyatt's arm around his friend's waist and the awkward look on said friend's face. Something decidedly weird was going on here.

"Hi," he responded. "I'm surprised to see you here."

"I felt really bad about last night. I was hoping we could talk about it."

Casey turned to Wyatt, "Honey, I really want to get out of this towel. I think now would be a good time to head into your room, huh?"

"Honey?" Chris asked.

"I'm trying out terms of endearment for my new boyfriend," the girl responded with a pointed look.

Chris swallowed, trying to make his voice sound natural when he responded. "Right. Your boyfriend. My _brother_."

Molly noticed a hint of distaste in his tone. She wondered if maybe she had imagined it. She smiled softly at her boyfriend. "Can we go in your room, talk privately?"

Chris nodded, gesturing for her to lead the way. He threw a look to the two actors out in the hallway, shaking his head. Wyatt shrugged while Casey waved him on. Chris took her silent advice and followed Molly into his room.

Meanwhile, Casey turned to Wyatt, "Okay, so how is this supposed to work?"

"Hey, I have a fever. Don't look at me."

Casey let out a deep breath. She had a really horrible feeling about this. After all, exactly how long was she supposed to pretend to date the brother to the guy she really loved? And how long would Molly buy it before everything exploded in their faces?

tbc. . .


	6. Love Hurts

CHAPTER 6

Love Hurts

Casey paced back and forth in front of Wyatt's closet, wringing her hands together. The young man for his part just watched her move, his head following her from one end of the room to the other. In the process of watching her, he noted two things he hadn't really thought about. One, she had remarkably tiny feet. Two, she was still only wearing the bath towel. After the second thought all others stopped.

The young woman paused in her pacing as she noticed her host wasn't blinking anymore. She clapped her hands, bringing him back to attention. She smirked, "Enjoying yourself?"

"Can't say I'm complaining about the view..."

"Down boy. We're only pretending to date, remember?"

Wyatt let out a breath, turning his face away from her. "How could I forget?"

"I really am glad that Molly and Chris are talking, but I wish they would have done it somewhere else," she remarked, ignoring the jab. "My clothes are in his room, and call me completely _loca_, but I have a feeling I'm not going to get to them any time soon."

The Twice Blessed stood from the bed. He paused after rising to his feet, his vision blacking for a minute from standing too fast. He blinked a few times until it came back. Then he sneezed.

"_Salud_."

"Thanks," the young man replied as he grabbed a tissue. He blew his nose, the sound matching that of a trumpet being played by an inexperienced band member. He moaned in misery as he tossed the tissue onto the white pile already formed on his night stand.

"You sick?"

Wyatt nodded, moving over to his closet, gesturing for her to step aside. "Yeah. The flu or a cold or something."

"You kissed me," she pointed out. "If I get sick, we both know who's playing nursemaid."

"Deal," he replied, pulling a shirt off the hanger. He handed it to her, "Here. It should be a dress on you. Much more comfortable than a towel."

Casey smiled softly as she took the large, blue flannel shirt into her hands. She gazed down at it for a moment, her hands running over the soft material. Her brown eyes lifted to gaze up at the miserable youth from under her thick black lashes. "Do you remember where you got this?"

"Nope," Wyatt lied.

The young woman pretended to believe him. As she slipped it on over the towel, snapping it closed, she answered softly, "I do."

_It was two years ago in Halliwell Manor. To be specific, it was Wyatt Halliwell's bedroom. It was late into the evening of his birthday when he heard a soft knock on the door. He rose to answer, casually tossing it open, expecting to find his younger brother on the other side. Instead, he found the girl he'd been pretending not to have feelings for. He'd been pretending so long he'd almost convinced himself they weren't there. After all, Chris confided in him that _he_ had a thing for Casey, and as the older brother, it was his job to step aside. _

Not that it mattered. She had a boyfriend.

"Case, hey, what are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be playing personal cheerleader to that boyfriend of yours. He has a basketball game tonight, right?"

"Championships," she flippantly answered, entering his room without asking.

He shut the door behind her. "So, how come you aren't there?"

"Because," she answered, plopping down on the edge of the bed, "it is your birthday. A guy only turns seventeen once."

"You're missing his big game for me?"

She reached into the backpack she had just taken off, pulling out something wrapped in newspaper. She held it out to him, "Had to bring you your present."

"You couldn't do it tomorrow?"

"Is this your way of telling me to leave?"

The Twice Blessed shook his head, and responded a little too quickly, "No. Not at all. I'm happy you came. It's just kinda unexpected is all."

"He told me to pick him or you guys," she answered. "Obviously, it didn't go the way he thought." She shook the present still in her hand. "Here. Open it."

Smiling like an idiot, Wyatt lightly grabbed what he was certain was a shirt. He ripped into the newspaper, his face lighting up when he saw what was inside: a blue flannel shirt. A private joke between the two of them. She called him Leo Jr. often saying that all he was missing was his father's great fashion sense.

"So?"

The young man looked up at her. "It's perfect."

He moved to hug her and found the embrace lasting longer than usual. Her arms seemed to cling to him, her head resting on his chest. When she did finally pull away, he could have sworn her eyes were shining. He almost asked why, but knowing her the way he did, decided not to. Chris would find out later. Chris always did.

But why not him? How about just this once he do something for himself? Something selfish, something that made him less than a perfect brother? Why did he always have to do and give everything to Chris? He loved his brother, wouldn't deny him anything in the world, but just this once he envied him.

"Wyatt?"

The Twice Blessed made up his mind. He put a hand lightly on her cheek. His eyes locked on hers and as he slowly leaned down toward her he murmured, "Casey, I think I– "

She never found out what he was going to say. Chris screamed for his big brother, a demon having shimmered into his bedroom ready to take on a Halliwell for guts and glory. Wyatt had orbed off right on the spot. He never brought it up again. She didn't either for that matter. Mostly because she was fairly sure she knew what the next words would be, and she didn't want to hear them from Wyatt. If she didn't hear them, she could deny it, and if she could deny it, she wouldn't have to hurt him. She would do anything to spare him that kind of hurt...except the one thing he really needed her to do. The one thing she couldn't do. 

"So, what are you doing here, anyway?" Wyatt asked suddenly, his demeanor a bit icy.

She slipped the towel off from under the shirt. She set it over the door knob. Then, she turned to face her former friend, and almost cringed at how differently he looked at her. He'd never forgiven her for sleeping with Chris. His little brother he could forgive anything, but her? Their friendship was over.

"My mom and I moved back to the states to be closer to family," Casey answered, trying to skip the painful part. "The part about a demon being after me is true. I have to stay here until it's vanquished since I'm not really safe anywhere else."

"Your dad's a powerful witch. He could protect you. Why isn't he up here?"

She let out a breath, gripping onto the edge of his desk with her hands as she leaned back against it. "Because the demon got him first."

The ice melted in the young man's blue eyes, the color softer and warmer again. "I'm sorry. I know that sounds pretty lame considering, but I don't know what else to say."

"That right there," she answered, "best thing anyone's said so far."

He moved to wrap her in a hug, and as she buried her face into his shoulder, she realized that Wyatt Halliwell was a big enough man to be there for her when she needed him despite the horrible past and the broken heart she'd dealt him. She should have known he was, and promised to make it up to him somehow. She didn't know how, but someday she knew she would.

Meanwhile, over in Chris' bedroom, things were off to an equally awkward start. . .

Molly, arms folded over her chest, entered into Chris' room with a slow, reluctant gait. She wasn't sure where to start. After what she had done, and after all that had been said the night before, cleaning up the mess their relationship was currently in was going to be much harder than she had previously thought.

"So," Chris started, shutting the door before turning to face her. "You wanted to talk."

"Yeah. I'm just not sure where to start."

Her boyfriend nodded, his hands slipping into his pockets. "Okay."

"You did the right thing," she began, her hazel eyes unable to look up at him just then. "If we would have...," the young woman trailed off, her nerves closing off her throat.

After taking a moment to regroup, she swallowed down her fear and pride. "You were right. About everything. I was going out of my mind thinking about you and her and everything you'd said, and I thought that if we slept together it would go away, but it wouldn't have fixed anything. It would have probably ruined everything." Her eyes shot up just then, "Not that I think it would be bad. That's not what I meant. I don't mean to say that I wouldn't like it. I just– "

"I get it," Chris cut in, with a chuckle. "It's okay. I know exactly what you were going for."

His girlfriend let out a breath. "Okay, good. This is good. Because, I do want to...you have no idea how sometimes..." She blushed, pushing her hair behind her ear. "Um, I am getting way off track here, aren't I?"

"I like when you get off track," he responded, his eyes locking on hers, his hand slipping around hers. "You can stop explaining though. I understand."

"I have to say one more thing."

"Shoot."

"I acted like a jealous shrew of a girlfriend, and you didn't deserve that. You were so honest with me, and you didn't deserve what happened. I'm so sorry, Chris." Molly bit her lip in her habitually anxious manner. "Please say we're okay..."

Chris smiled softly, "I'm sorry too. What I said...I didn't mean it."

"I know." Molly moved into his arms, resting her head on his chest. "I was so worried I'd just messed up the best thing in my life."

"You couldn't," he answered solemnly.

The young woman slowly pulled away, about to tell her boyfriend how much she loved him when she noticed a duffle bag lying on the floor next to his door. This in and of itself would have meant nothing to her. It was the name on the luggage tag that had caught her attention: Casey Alvarez. It was her. The girl out in the hall in nothing but a towel was the one that Chris had...and the disgust over her dating Wyatt hadn't been imagined...then the look she'd spotted in her boyfriend's eyes when he saw the barely clad vixen hadn't been either.

They had one fight, and now, his former lover's bag was in his room. She was staying here. In his room. In his bed.

"Molly?" Chris asked, noticing the blank look on her face.

She shook her head, her hazel eyes growing dark as she looked up at him. Without a word, she marched by him, flinging open the door and hurrying for the stairs. She could hear him calling her name and racing to catch up with her. Even if she wanted to listen to him at this point she wouldn't have been able to. Her thoughts were screaming in her head, telling her how stupid she was not to have seen this coming from the start.

His hand wrapped around her arm, halting her at the top of the stairs. She tried to pull away, refusing to look at him, the tears burning in her eyes. His grip was strong; she couldn't jerk her way free. He was talking, talking, talking, but all she could see was that girl in the towel with _her_ boyfriend. Obviously sleeping in his bed again

She jerked away with all her strength.

"Molly!" Chris' voice suddenly yelled.

It wasn't until she felt her feet come out from under her that she realized they were actually at the edge of the landing. Now, she knew what he had been saying: come away from the stairs. It seemed a bit too late for that now, didn't it?

The last thing she remembered became the pure terror marking Chris' face as his hand just missed grabbing hold of hers then the view switching to the white ceiling. The rest would forever remain a blank.

tbc. . .


	7. Beautiful Disaster

An: for leaving you on such a mean cliffie, here's another update :)

CHAPTER 7

Beautiful Disaster

Wyatt pulled away from Casey, running a hand through his short blonde hair. He let out a long breath, shaking his head at the position he found himself in once again. She was here. She was in his room, in his button up shirt, her arms wrapped around him, and all he could think about was sweeping her up into his arms and throwing her on the bed. Chris might think his big brother was the "golden boy" the "saint" the "perfect little angel" of the family, but truth be told, Wyatt had the same desires as any other guy. Right now, the desire included undoing all those nice buttons one by one as her legs wrapped around his waist and the two of them tumbled onto his bed. 

It was odd how quickly the want came flooding back to him. He had convinced himself that if he ever saw her again, he wouldn't care. When she and Chris had started their affair, he'd made himself swear to move on. She'd made her choice. He'd always known which Halliwell she would be with, and had attempted to burn that knowledge into his heart until any romantic thoughts about her were stamped out.

Apparently, it didn't work as well as he had thought. Because even though he knew she had picked Chris, and even though the idea of his little brother's hands and lips on her had kept him awake for months with torturous thoughts and mental pictures, his brain didn't seem to be able to stop repeating the idea: Chris has Molly now. Now's my chance to show her she picked the wrong brother before.

Loud voices broke out in the hallway. Chris and Molly's voices from what Wyatt could tell. He groaned, once again losing a precious moment with the girl. Moving to go see what had happened now, he noticed Casey trailing after him, an equally worried look on her face.

Once in the hallway, the Twice Blessed saw Molly jerk away from Chris, who was in a panic, calling out to her to get away from the stairs, desperately trying to force her back from the edge of the landing. Whatever had happened between them must have been pretty damaging because from what the blond witchlighter could tell, Molly's face was completely stained with tears, and it seemed like Chris was the last person in the world she wanted to see.

The final jerk out of her boyfriend's grasp caused Molly to lose her balance, her feet coming out from under her as she began to catapult backwards down the stairs.

"No," Chris shouted, trying to grab her, but his hand just missed catching hold of the falling woman.

A gasp escaped from the woman by Wyatt's side, her hands flicking out in front of her.

That's when Molly stopped falling. Her body was frozen in the air on its back, her feet heading up toward the ceiling.

"Well, at least I got it to work this time," Casey's voice filled the silence that followed, her hands dropping back down to her sides.

Chris orbed Molly into his bedroom and onto his bed so that when the freeze wore off and she fell, it would be short with a soft landing. He then turned to his best friend, a grateful look beyond measure on his face. He quickly moved to her, wrapping her in a tight hug. "Thank you."

Casey smiled, returning the embrace. "No problem."

Wyatt watched the two embrace. When he looked into the young woman's face there was a contentedness that he only saw when she was with his brother. Her body just melted into the other witch's. He took a deep breath and turned his face away.

Leo poked his head up the stairs, concern furrowing his brow. "Everything okay up here? Your mom and I heard yelling."

"It's under control, Dad," his youngest son answered. "Don't worry about it."

The father didn't look entirely convinced but returned to the kitchen to help his wife finish up the family dinner.

"So what happened with Molly?" Casey asked, getting straight to the point. "She seemed kinda frenzied."

"Found out who you really were. I should have been straight with her from the beginning."

"Sorry. We didn't mean to make things worse. Honest," Wyatt said. "I just knew you two were already on shaky ground, and I didn't think she'd appreciate seeing Case here in just a towel, so I just said the first thing that popped in my head."

"I know."

A startled yell came from Chris' bedroom followed by the squeak of his mattress. Molly's voice, timid and unsure called, "Chris?"

Without hesitation, the young man hurried into his room to see if she was all right. To his surprise, her arms extended toward him as tears filled her hazel eyes. He gratefully slid into the embrace, wrapping his arms around her as she buried her head into his shoulder. He stroked her silky black hair comfortingly.

She pulled away, rubbing her eyes dry with the palms of her hands. "Oh God. I'm a freaking mess. One minute I'm falling and now, I'm here in your room safe and sound. I can't believe I almost...if you hadn't saved me..."

"I didn't," Chris answered. "Casey stopped your fall."

Molly blinked. "She's a witch?"

"She has the same power as my mom– stops time. She froze you when she saw you falling, then I moved you in here."

"Oh. Then, I guess I owe her, huh?"

Chris was smart enough not to answer.

The young woman took a deep breath, looking directly into her boyfriend's jade eyes. "Tell me nothing happened, and I'll believe you. We'll pretend the whole freak out that just happened never did, and I'll even play nice with Casey because she's your friend and just happened to stop me from breaking my neck."

"I swear to you nothing happened," Chris stated. His hand slipped to the side of her neck, his thumb caressing her jaw line with a feather light touch. "I love you. I've never said that to anyone else. The way I feel for you, I may _never_ say it to anyone else. So, I may do really stupid things, and be a less than perfect boyfriend sometimes, but, Molly Marie Vettle, you are the only girl in my thoughts. I don't want to be with anyone else."

"I love you so much, Chris. I think that's why I'm so scared."

"Scared of what?"

"Her. She's gorgeous, too kind to hate, and she's a witch...like you."

"You have nothing to be scared about," Chris answered. "I'm with you. I love you. That's something we never had, so really, you've got a one up on her. Okay?"

He took her delicate hands in his strong pair. For emphasis, he locked his intense gaze on her, making certain she didn't miss a single syllable. "Stop worrying about losing me, all right? The only way you could lose me would be to stop being yourself. If you keep freaking out about everything, and let my friendship with Case drive you crazy, situations like this are going to keep happening, and I don't think I can take that. I need you to trust me. That's what relationships are about."

"I know, I know," she said. "I'll be better now. I promise. Just, keep in mind that this wasn't all my fault. You did lie."

"I know. I guess I was a little scared too after what happened last time I was honest."

Molly laughed lightly. "Guess I can't blame you for that..."

A soft knock on the door interrupted the two.

Chris telekinetically opened the door, a little apprehensive when he saw his best friend standing on the other side. She was still dressed only in a flannel shirt. Granted it was huge on her petite frame, but still, it was a bit suggestive. He hoped Molly realized it wasn't _his_ shirt.

"Uh, hi," the latina ventured unsurely. "I was just sort of hoping I could talk to you, Molly. I guess I've been causing a lot of trouble for you and Chris, and I really feel bad about it. It was never my intention, and I just want you to know that what happened with me and Chris was a fluke, and I don't have feelings for him, and he doesn't have feelings for me. I'm actually thrilled he's found such a nice girl from what he and Wyatt have been saying. All I want is my best friend to be happy, and you make him the happiest Wyatt's ever seen him. And, that was pretty much it...oh, except, since I already interrupted what hopefully was a touching make-up moment, I'm just gonna," she pointed to the duffel bag before grabbing it and hugging it to her. "Okay, then, um, I guess that's all. You two kids have fun. Bye."

She began to rush back out the door when Molly called for her to wait. The witch winced before slowly turning back around to face what she imagined would be the wrath of the jealous girlfriend. Instead, the other woman was smiling at her.

"Thanks for what you just said," Molly said. "I appreciate it. I know this is really horribly lame and cliche, but hopefully we might eventually be friends too?"

Casey nodded. "Sure. Yeah. Hopefully by then I'll have actual clothes on."

Chris smiled at her off-beat sense of humor, realizing in that moment just how much he had missed his best friend. It had been way too long. It was inexcusable that he'd cut her off the way he had. He'd cut off one of the few people in the entire world that he could connect with, and with whom he shared a complete trust. Their witty repartee at all hours of the night had gotten him through some of the darkest days of his younger years. How could he have forgotten her so easily?

"Oh, right," he heard Molly answer with a soft chuckle. "That'd be good."

Molly. She certainly had distracted him. She'd been an unexpected addition to his life. She had brought the fun and light back when he'd been consumed with nothing but magic and demons and living day by day instead of moment by moment.

The other woman gave a little wave before finally bowing out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"I like her," his girlfriend's voice cut into his thoughts.

Chris turned to look at her, slightly distracted as he softly answered, "Good. That's good."

"I think she and Wyatt would be perfect together."

"No," the young man quickly argued. He noted her surprised and somewhat worried look. He let out a breath, realizing how he must have sounded. "It's just," he ran a hand through his hair as he fought to find words, "it's complicated."

"Why? He liked her before. He's single. She's single. She's back."

"She doesn't have those kind of feelings for him. Never has. Never will. He's too safe."

Molly quirked a brow. "You weren't though?"

"I never dated her."

"I think we should set them up," his girlfriend continued.

"I don't." Chris rose from the bed and started pacing. "It's none of our business. Besides, Casey is going through a lot right now. She's not in a place in her life where a romantic relationship is really a priority. Or even a good idea. She's a wreck."

Molly frowned. "The demon story was true then?"

"Yeah, she's in pretty deep. Her dad was murdered by a demon, and now, the demon's after her. Plus, her powers are on the fritz. Coming and going at random."

"Oh my god. That's awful. Poor girl." Molly felt her chest constrict at the thought of losing one's parent. She personally didn't know what it would be like to have that influence torn from your life. She had never known her father– he'd left a long time ago– but her mother was more than a parent, she was a best friend, a mentor, and a source of inspiration and strength. She couldn't imagine trying to live without her mother in the world. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

Chris saw the compassion in her face and was reminded all over again why he had fallen in love with her. After all the jealousy and fear and rivalry she had felt, she was still worried about this stranger who had caused so many problems in her life. Chris moved in front of her, kissing her softly.

"What was that for?"

"You're amazing, you know that?"

"It seems to come and go these days," she answered.

As her boyfriend reclaimed her mouth with his own, obviously in the mood for a make-up make-out, Molly had her mind still fixated on other matters. Wyatt deserved to be happy. He'd been the one to set them up after all. Turn about was only fair. Besides, it would kill two birds with one stone: Wyatt would get his happy ending, and Molly wouldn't have to worry about Casey anymore. Everybody wins.

0000

Chris dried the last of the supper dishes, placing it back in its proper place in the shelf. He leaned back against the counter to observe the peace and quiet that had been restored to the Manor once the many house guests had finally left. His aunts, uncles and cousins had all come over for dinner, and ended up staying pretty much all evening. Luckily it didn't end up being too late though, each having work and school in the morning. Now, it was just his little family and Casey left in the house. He'd orbed Molly home once they had finished their rather satisfying reconciliation. Apparently, her mother made a special dinner for the two of them as well.

"You seem a lot happier," Piper commented as she finished wiping down the counter. "I take it everything sorted itself out with Molly?"

"Yeah. It ended up going pretty well in the end."

"Well, good. I was worried for a while there."

Chris hopped up on the counter, staring down at his mother as she grinned up at him. "So, do you and the aunts have a plan to find Zayel?"

"We talked about it, and decided to each do the research separately in order to better our chances at finding something. Once we get a lead, we'll make the potion and power of three spell, hunt him down and make sure he never has the chance to hurt anyone ever again."

"How long do you think that's going to take?"

Leo looked up from the book he was reading at the kitchen table. "Chris, an upper level demon like Zayel is going to be harder to track. You know that. We will find him, though. Casey's dad was a good man and a good witch. His death won't go unanswered. Just trust us. After all, we did only find out about all this after dinner tonight."

Chris hopped down. "I think I'll get a head start on all that research now. Take a quick look through the book."

"Freeze," Piper ordered. "It's late. You have school in the morning. Bed now. Research tomorrow."

"But, Mom, the longer we wait to find this demon, the harder it'll be."

"School comes first."

"Family comes first, and Casey is practically family, so her needs come first. She's not safe until Zayel is vanquished."

"Christopher– "

"– I'll do it," Leo volunteered rising from the table. He smiled as Piper shot him a look. "It's okay. I don't have to be to magic school until tomorrow afternoon. I can look through the book tonight while you both get some rest." He turned to his son, "That work with you?"

"Yeah, thanks, Dad."

Chris gave each of his parents a quick hug before racing out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

He went into the bathroom, washing his face and brushing his teeth. An hour ago, when Wyatt had taken his cold medicine, and said his goodnights, Chris had placed his pj bottoms on the bathroom counter, so he wouldn't disturb his sick sibling. Now, he slipped out of his shirt, jeans and boxers, trading them for the simple pair of black cotton pants. When this was done, he exited, heading down the hall to his brother's room where he had an air mattress and sleeping bag set up and ready to go.

That's when he heard the whimper.

He frowned, walking closer to his own lightly closed door. He pushed it open just a little further, peeking into the moonlit room. The silver light hit the bed, casting a light over Casey's head. She was thrashing about, her breathing ragged and shallow.

He slipped quietly into his room, moving to stand over her.

The young woman cried in her sleep, whining softly. She was talking some, but the only word he could make out at all was 'no.' The rest of it was just desperate sounds, jumbled by an unconscious mind trapped in a place it clearly didn't want to be.

_Casey was running down a never ending white hallway. No windows. No doors. The only color at all was the red from smears marking the otherwise shiny marble floor. The only sounds she could hear were her own harried breathing and then, her father's cries for help, always seeming farther and farther away. _

She turned the corner. It was different this time. Most of the time when she rounded a corner the scenery remained the same– an endless hall with a trail of her father's fading life. This time, she found what she had been looking for, but not as she had hoped to find it. It was how it had been that day when her mother and she had been escorted down into the morgue.

Her father's eyes were looking up at her, but there was no light in them. They were dull without his spirit shining through them. His face was scratched with what the doctor could only describe as claws, the marks embedded deeply in his right cheek. His throat had been slit, and unlike in the morgue, it was still bleeding here, pouring out of his neck like water from a fountain. His chest had been ripped into, torn apart, his insides spilling onto the floor.

That's when his eyes snapped into focus and he looked at her. "Es tu culpa."

"No," Casey shouted, shooting up in bed. 

Chris put a gentle hand on her shoulder.

She jumped at the touch, gasping.

"It's just me," he whispered.

The young witch took a deep breath, trying to slow her racing heart and stop the constriction she felt in her chest. She squeezed the sheets hard, trying to ground herself in the present, in reality. She moved one hand and wiped her brow with the back of it, feeling the cool beads of sweat collected there. Immediately the hand returned to grasping the sheet. They were already starting to ache from the effort.

She had to get her breathing under control. Breathing was supposed to calm people. In and out. In and out. In and...

She buried her face in her hands, letting the tears finally fall.

"Hey, hey, it's all right," Chris soothed, moving to sit next to her on the bed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He rubbed circles on her back.

After a moment she calmed down. She turned to look at him. "I dreamt about Dad. He was...like he was in the morgue but worse. He said it..." she choked on a half-sob. "H-he said it was my f-f-fault."

The young man pulled her against his bare chest, stroking her hair the way he had Molly's just earlier that day. He whispered soothingly into her ear, telling her everything would be all right. It wasn't her fault. It was the demon who did it. They would get him. Eventually, she stilled against him, the shaking and crying coming to a stop.

"I don't want to go back to sleep," she confided, her voice unnaturally small.

"I'll stay with you until you do, okay?"

Casey nodded groggily. She practically slumped back down onto the pillow. Her hand reached out for his. Once he took it and gave a reassuring squeeze that he wasn't going anywhere, she closed her eyes.

He wondered just how long it had really been since she'd been able to sleep. Probably a long time. She'd wanted to take a nap earlier, but his fight with Molly hadn't allowed it. She'd stayed up until after dinner, eating only a roll and a small helping of potatoes and gravy, staying at the table to see Phoebe, Paige and the cousins. As soon as dinner was wrapped up, she'd claimed to have a head ache and went to bed. She must have been exhausted.

She suddenly jerked back up, her breathing erratic.

"What? What is it?" he softly asked.

"You know those dreams where you're falling?" she put to him. "Before you actually go to sleep all the way?"

"Yeah."

"One of those."

Chris nodded in the dark, understanding. She felt off balance and scared. Of course she was going to be plagued by nightmares and stomach dropping feelings. He had a plan. "Move over."

"Why?"

"Remember when you used to have anxiety attacks?"

"Still do, and yes, I was there after all."

Chris rolled his eyes despite her not being able to see him. "Remember what used to help?"

"Won't Molly mind?"

"I don't think so. It's harmless. Besides, I'll stay above the covers, and you'll be under. Better?"

Casey scooted over, rolling over onto her other side so that her back was facing Chris. She felt the bed shake a little as he laid down. Soon after, she felt his heat against her back as he moved close against her, wrapping an arm over her and keeping his knees behind hers so that they were spooning as best they could given the interference caused by his not being under the covers with her. "Okay, now, listen to my heartbeat. Breathe in and out to match it. It's steady and strong...rhythmic."

Her breathing slowed, got deeper. He could feel her relax in his grip.

"That's it," he soothed. "You're not alone. I'm right here."

Five to ten minutes later he felt her body go heavy, and knew she was asleep. He listened to her soft breathing, on the alert for any sign of a nightmare. It was steady and relaxed. There was a nice rhythm to it.

He felt his eyelids get heavy. He knew if he didn't go now, he'd fall asleep right there, which would probably not be the best thing to do after just fixing things with Molly, regardless of how innocent the situation was. So, in the interest of not causing another fight, he kissed the back of Casey's head lightly before rolling as quietly off the bed as he could. He paused at the door to make sure she looked serene and not about to have another nightmare.

With the moonlight glowing down on her, her mahogany hair flowing around her, she looked beautiful. He knew the truth though. On the outside there was undeniable radiance, but on the inside was total disaster. He grinned to himself, murmuring under his breath,"Goodnight, Beautiful Disaster."

tbc. . .


	8. Smiling While I Cry

CHAPTER 8

Smiling While I Cry

Casey pushed the omelette off the skillet and onto the fully recovered Wyatt's awaiting plate. As Piper was doing inventory at her restaurant early this morning, the teenaged witch had decided to get up early and make a nice breakfast for the boys as a way to thank them for putting up with her. After all, she knew it caused problems for both brothers. Chris had a jealous girl. Wyatt was jealous. 

She watched the eldest witch pull a knife out of the drawer before cutting the omelette in half and sliding the top part onto another plate. He held it out to her with a smile.

"I made that for you."

"I'm sharing. Like a big boy." He wiggled his eyebrows at her, a grin on his lips. When she didn't immediately take the plate, he set it back on the counter. "You know, I could orb this directly into your stomach. I've never actually tried, but I am supposedly some sort of all powerful witch, so I'm thinking it might work."

Chris glanced up from his own half-eaten omelette. "Don't test him. He'll do it."

The young woman leaned back against the counter eyeing both of them warily. "What's this really about?"

"Food. You. Not eating. Need to." Wyatt forced the plate toward her again. "Mmmm. Gooood. Come on don't make me pretend the fork is an airplane."

"Fine. Fine. I'll eat it. It's not that big of a deal. Sheesh." She grabbed the plate from his hand and headed over to the table, sitting across from the other witchlighter. She noticed him grinning widely into his plate. "You seem happy today."

Chris nodded, shoveling in another fork full of cheesy egg. He chewed quickly, swallowing before answering. "Molly and I have a date later."

Casey looked down into her plate, pushing a cube of ham around with her fork. "That's great. So, where are you going to go?"

Wyatt observed from the counter. He cut his omelette into pieces while he studied the young woman. She certainly was quite the actress. Too good for her own good. Wyatt could almost believe she really was all right with Chris moving on to Molly, but the tell tale sign was in her eyes. The light didn't quite reach them. His younger brother clearly didn't notice his words were serving like sharp needles imbedding themselves into the other witch as he went on about a romantic surprise dinner with another woman. Knowing Casey as well as he did, he knew she would never tell his sibling the truth either. Anything to make her friends happy instead of herself.

"So, think that will make up for everything?" Chris asked as he finished telling her the details.

"It sounds...perfect," the woman replied, her smile real but not complete.

Chris gestured at her plate with his fork. "Better hurry up. We've got to go soon. Can't be late on your first day back. You know how Principal Harris is."

"Right," she forced a mouthful of ham, cheese and egg. While she was an excellent cook, and normally loved everything having to do with food, she found eating to be nothing more than necessary these days. That's how she felt about most things since her father...

Chris' green eyes were locked on her, his brow furrowing slightly. "You okay? I mean, your mom said you didn't have to go back today..."

"I want to," she answered. "Keeping busy helps."

Wyatt let out a breath as he finished off his breakfast. "Well, guys, I would love to stay and chat, but I've got to get to work. Case, since Chris is taking off with Molly right after school, you want me to come and pick you up?"

"Sure, yeah. That'd be great."

The Twice Blessed smiled, his blue eyes soft as he looked at her. "Okay. I'll be there."

With a quick goodbye, Wyatt put his plate in the sink, grabbed his car keys off the hook and took off out the back door. The door slammed shut behind him as his feet pounded on the cement walk. A car engine ignited and then faded into the distance.

Casey poked her food absently.

"So, how are you _really_?"

The young woman gave a weak smile. "I'm alive."

"And?"

She pushed the plate away. Her rich coffee eyes locked onto his jade. "I don't want to talk about my feelings. I don't want to think about what happened. I just want to try to get on with my life somehow, which seems pretty impossible considering. I mean, I had friends back home. I had a life. More importantly, I had my dad. All of those things are gone. Now, I'm back here, my mother won't speak to me since I'm a supernatural freak, and dad died because he was one too, so clearly that all amounts to it being my fault in her mind. I've been nothing but a hassle to you and Wyatt, and to top it all off, my powers only work once in a while, so I can't even hunt down the thing that caused it all."

"Feel better?"

"A little."

Chris reached across the table, taking her hand. "Okay, I'm only going to say this once. You are not a hassle."

She shot him a look.

"Okay, maybe just a little, but you've always been a great friend to me, so it doesn't matter. I'm here for you no matter what. Remember the promise I made you when we were kids?"

The truth was she did. She remembered that moment clearly as one of the moments in their long history that had solidified their friendship. And like most bonding moments, it came in a time of trouble...

_Little six year old Christopher Perry Halliwell's brow furrowed as he concentrated on the yellow measuring cup in his hand. His mom had said that the flour was supposed to be level with the top of the cup. It was a little under the rim. He poured out the whole cup and scooped the flour again. He took a butter knife and trimmed the excess off like his mom had showed him. Perfect. _

He poured the last of the flour into the bowl the eldest Charmed One was currently mixing with the beaters. It fluffed out before blending into the creamy colored dough.

Casey was bouncing up and down on Piper's other side, the bag of chocolate chips in her hand shaking like a maraca while her pig-tails jumped up and down. "Is it ready now?"

"Okay, get on the chair Chris is on and then slowly_ pour in the chips." _

Chris hopped down, his bowl shaped brown hair flopping into his big green eyes. He scrunched up his nose. With a breath, he blew the hair out of his eyes. He then gave a hand to his friend to help her onto the chair because his dad said he was supposed to help girls like that. He didn't know why.

Casey excitedly poured the chips into the dough, careful to do exactly what Mrs. Wyatt told her. Then, when the mother wasn't looking, the little girl stuck her hand into the bag and handed Chris a portion of chocolate chips. She then took a few for herself before pouring the rest in the bowl.

Just as Piper stopped the blender, removing the mixers, a vortex demon appeared in the kitchen, opening a gaping hole right next to the eldest Charmed One, who grabbed onto the counter for dear life, yelling for Chris to orb Casey out.

The little girl went flying off the chair, her purloined chocolate chips raining onto the floor. In a panic she flicked out her hands, freezing the demon and the vortex. She started dropping to the floor immediately after. However, she never hit the floor. Instead, she felt herself enveloped in warmth. The next thing she knew she was standing next to Chris, who wrapped his arms around her and orbed them both upstairs into his bedroom.

_"I got you," the little boy said, his arms still around her. "Mom will vanquish him then we can finish the cookies."_

_The pig tailed girl smiled softly. "You caught me. Like a super hero." _

"Yup. I'm gonna be one someday."

She frowned thoughtfully. "Super heroes have to save the whole wide world. That's a bunch of people."

"So?"

"Will you forget me when you're a super hero?"

"I'll always catch you," he replied solemnly. "I promise."

_As if to seal the deal, he handed her the last few chocolate chips that remained in his hand, a little melted but no worse for the wear. "You dropped yours. Here." _

She took the chocolate chips and in exchange gave him a little kiss on the cheek, which made the little boy turn bright red. She giggled at his embarrassment before enjoying the chocolate chips.

Chris grinned. "Not quite superman, but the promise still stands."

"Thank you."

"Anytime."

000

Casey tapped her pencil absently against her notebook, watching the clock hands, waiting for them to move into position. The minute hand moved. The bell rang. After four excruciatingly long classes, it was finally time for lunch.

Throwing her book and notebook into her backpack, she swung the bag over her shoulder and scurried out of the room, wanting nothing more than to get down to the cafeteria and find Jessica.

Unfortunately, just as she exited the classroom, she was pulled to the side by the one person she really didn't want to see. The young man's hands slid to her waist as he pushed her against the lockers. His deep blue eyes were clouded over as he gazed down on her. "Hey, baby."

The young woman tried to shove him away, but found him to be too strong. "Let me go, Sam."

"Made that mistake once, not gonna do it again," he answered, his voice purposefully husky. "It's been a long year since I got to see you. Got to hold you."

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you slept with Valerie?"

Sam shrugged, "You slept with Halliwell."

"After we broke up."

"Still," he went on, "it hurt me. You and that freak. I always thought something was going on with you two. I was a jealous mess. You were always picking him over me. What was I supposed to do?"

"Keeping it in your pants might have been a plan."

He pushed her hard against the lockers. "Bitch. I was willing to take you back."

"Sam?" she asked, surprised by his new violent nature. She looked into his eyes and realized just what might have caused the fogginess in the clear blue eyes she remembered. "Sam, what did you take?"

He grabbed her wrist, wringing it so tightly she winced. "You don't say a word. Not one Goddamn word you fucking whore. I did what I had to do to impress the scouts. I'm going places. You'll see. I'm not gonna wind up a loser like my dad. Not me. I don't need you to do it either. I had plenty of women in my bed after you left. They were dying to be with me."

"I'm sure they were," she agreed, her free hand trying to pry his off her. "You were a really good guy before...I loved you, remember?"

"Sure you did."

She kept struggling to release his hold on her, her wrist aching with the pressure he was applying. "Sam, I'm sorry I snapped. I'm sorry I said that. Just let me go. This isn't you. You're hurting me, and you'd never hurt me on purpose."

"You should have never left me," he shot back. "Never. Because now that you're back, I'm gonna make sure you pay for humiliating me. I gave you a chance to make up for it, but you threw it in my face. I'm not a loser, Casey. No one is going to treat me like one."

The young man punched the locker next to her head before storming off down the hall.

Casey closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to calm down. When she opened them, the hall was deserted. Save for one person hidden in the shadows. The young woman didn't see him standing there, however. Her focus was on getting out of the hallway and by herself. So, she ran into the bathroom. Leaning over the sink, she squeezed her eyes shut against the tears.

Her first love, the first of the only two guys she'd ever been with had just left an angry ring of bruises around her wrist.

It was true. You could never go home.

0000

Chris ran to catch up as he spotted Casey and Jessica down the hall. He purposefully snuck up on the pair, keeping a slight distance and remaining silent as the two girls chatted. After a minute, he slowly laid a gentle hand on the taller witch's shoulder. Just as he knew she would, Jessica jumped with a gasp before turning around and lightly hitting him in the shoulder.

"You crap weasel. You scared the hell out of me."

The witchlighter, still laughing replied, "That was the point."

The young man turned his attention to the other young lady. "Hey, I missed you at lunch. Where were you?"

"In the library with me," Jess answered.

"The library?"

"It's that one really big room in the school where all the books are."

Chris rolled his eyes. "I wasn't asking what it was thanks. I meant, what were you doing in the library?"

"Reading. It's what you do with the books. Well, maybe not _you_ per se."

Ignoring her jabs for the moment, the witchlighter focused on his abnormally quiet friend. "Did you eat anything for lunch?"

"Sure I did."

"Okay. What?"

She winced, knowing what was coming. "A chocolate bar."

"A chocolate bar? A chocolate bar. Are you serious? That's not lunch. That's not even part of a food group."

"Sure it is," Casey argued. "It's in the fats."

He glowered at her.

"Well, it is."

"Not the point. You barely touched your eggs this morning, and now, only a candy bar for lunch? It's not healthy."

"They say having dark chocolate once a day keeps your heart healthy..."

"You aren't going to win this, Case. Stop trying."

Jessica cut in, concern lacing her eyes. "Wait a minute, that's all you've eaten all day? What the hell is the matter with you? If I didn't have to be to work in five minutes I would drag your butt to McDonalds."

"Cause that's healthy," Chris put in.

"It's food."

"Debatable."

Casey cut in. "Guys, it's all right. If it'll make you feel better, I'll make myself a sandwich the first thing when I get home. You can even call Wyatt to make sure I ate it all like a good girl, okay?"

"Oh, shit," Chris cursed. "I just realized I forgot my honors chem. book. If you run into Molly outside, could you tell her I'll be out in a minute. I've got to go back to my locker."

"Aren't you picking her up?"

"She only lives a few blocks from here, and she wanted to see some of her old teachers while she was in town."

"Oh."

"Can you tell her?"

"I think I can manage that."

Chris took off back down the hall the way he'd come, disappearing up the stairs while the girls continued out the doors of the school.

"So, I get off work at about ten, but after that you want me to come over and help out? Maybe Phoebe and I can get some premonitions or something."

"That'd be great," Casey answered, pulling her friend into a hug. "I need my best friend right about now. There are some things we need to talk about."

"Oh, Sweetie," she softly replied, her eyes moist. "You need me anytime day or night, and I will be there. You know that. And as soon as I am off work, we will hang. Find demons, eat ice cream or watch a sappy movie– anything you need. Because you are my sister, and I love you."

Casey sniffled, slowly pulling away. "Later."

"Bye, Chickee."

Casey watched as her friend walked over to her car, got in and pulled away. She waved until the car was out of sight.

She looked down at her watch and realized that she probably had about ten minutes or so until Wyatt arrived to get her. The young woman wondered vaguely if it would be wrong to just crawl back into bed once she got home, pull the covers over her head and never get up again. Even if she could just hide in the safety of her comforter, she knew neither of the brothers would let her get away with it.

"Casey?"

Casey turned toward the familiar voice, smiling weakly as she saw Molly standing next to her. The girl looked good. She was wearing straight legged, dark washed jeans with a sapphire sweater with a black leather coat. Her hair was softly curled and dangling around her shoulders. Apparently, she wanted to look her best for her date with Chris.

Molly noticed something off about the other woman. Something so much sadder than she had seen the day before. Granted she had been a little distracted by her complete jealousy, but still, she was certain the dull look in the brown eyes had not been there last time she'd seen her. The witch just looked so bone tired...and lost. Her clothing didn't even reflect the confident person she'd been certain Casey was. She was in an oversized grey hooded sweatshirt and green cargo pants. It was like she was trying to blend in, hide. Molly would recognize the combined look anywhere. She'd seen it in the mirror every day until she met Chris. This was a girl who didn't know her place in the world.

"Chris told me to tell you that he forgot his chemistry text in his locker and had to go get it. He'll be down in a minute though."

"Oh," Molly answered. "Thanks."

The two stood together in awkward silence.

Finally, the future whitelighter couldn't stand it anymore. She let out a breath. "Okay, so I know that I probably don't have any right to ask this, but since you are one of Chris' oldest and closest friends, I figure you have to be pretty special since Chris doesn't exactly play well with others most of the time. As a special person, I figure you're someone I should care about too, and so, in Chris' place I'm going to ask anyway...what's wrong?"

"Wow," Casey answered, her dark brows flying to her hairline. "You're asking the woman you probably loathe what's wrong? That's impressive."

"I don't hate you," Molly argued. "I don't know you."

"Still, I can't be one of your favorite people in the world."

"I have my issues. I'll admit that. But, and this is a really important but, I love Chris, and if you're important to him, that's going to have to be good enough for me. Plus, you look pretty miserable, and I can't say I like seeing anyone so hurt. No matter how I feel about them."

Casey smiled softly. "I can see why he fell in love with you."

Molly, taken back, asked, "What do you mean?"

"I've known Chris a really long time. I can see what he sees in you, that's all."

"Oh."

Casey reached up to tighten her ponytail as a way to keep her hands busy and relieve some of the awkward nerves she felt. What she didn't think about was the fact that a dark ring of bruises was forming on her wrist, and when she raised her arm, her sleeve came down just enough so that Molly could see it.

"What happened to your wrist?"

Quickly dropping her hands back down, the young witch tried to appear collected. She shrugged a little. "Demon attack yesterday."

Molly didn't respond.

Chris came running out of the building just then. He jogged over to where the two girls were standing, giving a quick kiss to Molly before turning to Casey. "Hey, Wyatt still not here yet?"

"He's probably around back," She answered. "I think I'll go look for him there."

"Well, you have his cell number, right?"

"Yup."

"Okay good. If he isn't here in five more minutes, call him. He probably spaced it off. Oh, and if you need me tonight for the demon or some other emergency, just call, okay?"

"Will do."

Casey gave a smile to the other girl. "Nice to see you again." To both of them, "Have fun tonight. Try not to get into too much trouble."

As the petite witch headed off around the corner of the building toward the back parking lot, Molly turned to her boyfriend, a worried look on her face. "She's in trouble."

"What?"

"We were talking, and I spotted a really nasty bruise forming on her wrist. When I asked her about it, she said it was from the attack yesterday, which I know isn't true because I didn't see any marks on her yesterday when I saw her, and I would have."

"I can't believe it. That's why she ditched me for lunch. She knew I'd be able to tell something was wrong. I bet it happened right before then too."

"Do you want to go after her?"

Chris hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. "No. You only have a few more days of break left, and I've messed it up enough already. I promised you a romantic evening. I'm not going to break it."

"She's your friend, and she's been attacked," Molly argued. "I think that qualifies as an emergency. I'll understand and promise not to even be a little jealous. She's in trouble, Chris. And pain. God, I could see it right beneath the surface."

Chris smiled down at her, his hand moving to her cheek. His green eyes stared into her hazel with pure amazement. "You are incredible. I have got to be the luckiest guy on the planet. After everything I put you through the last two days, you're still willing to have compassion for the girl who caused it because she's my friend. It means a lot to me, Molly."

"I know what it's like," she replied.

"What do you mean?"

"To have a smile on your face when inside, you're crying." She shrugged. "You don't want others to know how much you hurt, so you hide it. Really, you're just praying someone notices though. That someone cares enough to really look and see the truth. You want someone to give a damn about you."

"So, what do I do?"

Molly hedged, knowing perfectly well what she should tell him, but not wanting to actually voice it aloud. Instead, she developed an alternative route. "She's good friends with Wyatt too, right?"

"Yeah. We all sort of grew up together. Theirs is a relationship that goes beyond complicated. So much emotional baggage. As far as I know he never forgave her for...uh, well, me I guess."

"He said he didn't hold it against you guys. Besides, they looked plenty cozy last night."

Chris ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know. Maybe he's moved on. Maybe he's forgiven her. I mean, it is Wyatt. He might have let bygones be bygones when he found out about her dad. It'd be like him."

"So, maybe you should let him field this one," his girlfriend ventured. "After all, if she was really going to open up to you, don't you think she would have done it already?"

Chris frowned. "What do you mean?"

"You're supposed to be her best friend, but instead of turning to you, hasn't she been sort of pushing you away? Keeping you at arms length? Like the missed lunch date this afternoon?"

"I don't think..."

Molly pressed it further, "Has she talked to you about her dad?"

The witchlighter shook his head, his green eyes clouding over. "No. Not really. She hasn't been real forthcoming with how she's doing actually. Says she doesn't want to talk about it. I let it go because who am I to tell her how to cope with something like that?"

"Did she used to talk about hard issues with you?"

"Yeah, I guess..."

Molly shrugged. "Maybe things are just too different between you guys now. Maybe she doesn't feel comfortable with you anymore."

Chris felt a knot grow in his stomach. The words were thundering in his brain like a hammer. Was it true? She had been acting a little distant. Normally, she would have cried on his shoulder the first chance she got. Now, it was like she was holding it all in, like she didn't think she could go to him. Why would that be? Because of what he'd done after she'd left? Cutting the ties? It hadn't been to hurt her. It hadn't. It had been to protect himself. Or was it Molly's presence in his life? His priorities were different now.

His best friend had lost her father and had been attacked by someone– Sam probably, if Chris' instincts were right– and didn't come to him. She didn't think she could. Chris felt his chest tighten at the thought of betraying his friendship so horribly. "I have to find her and let her know she can come to me."

Molly grabbed hold of his arm, halting him. "Wait. Chris, she needs help now, and rebuilding what you guys had as friends might take longer than you think. Why don't you let Wyatt handle it like I said."

Chris, hesitantly, pulled out his cell phone, staring at the speed dial for his brother. He should handle this himself. If his friendship was really in such shambles, he should fix it. Casey meant a lot to him. He shouldn't abandon her now of all times.

"Chris?"

The young man looked down into his girlfriend's soft eyes. Maybe she was right. Maybe it would be for the best. He pushed the button. After a few rings, his brother picked up. "Hey, Wyatt. . ."

Molly bit her lip, looking down at the ground. Guilt swarmed through her. She had just purposefully manipulated her boyfriend. She had always sworn to herself she wouldn't do anything like that. She wasn't one of those girls. She tried to console her conscious, saying that it was for the best. Wyatt would take care of Casey, and everything would be fine. She just wanted Chris to herself for one night. Was that so wrong?

A little voice in the back of her mind answered: yes.

tbc. . .


	9. Wash Me Away

CHAPTER 9

Wash Me Away

Wyatt pulled up to the side walk in the back parking lot of the high school. He leaned across the passenger seat to fling the door open for Casey, who was standing on the curb, her backpack slung carelessly over one shoulder. When he heard the door slam shut, he pulled away, keeping his eyes focused on the road, knowing that if he didn't, he'd cause more problems than he would solve. 

If he ever found out who had laid a hand on her, Wyatt Halliwell wouldn't think twice about the words personal gain. He imagined that's why Chris left out the name of his suspect. Or perhaps little brother planned on beating him to it.

"You're exceptionally quiet today," his passenger commented.

"Got a lot on my mind."

Casey nodded, and seeing his attention completely fixated on anything but looking at her, decided to stare out the window at the passing scenery of grey, metal and glass. She used to enjoy living in the city. Now, it all seemed so lack luster.

"So, how was your day?" She ventured, the silence starting to bother her.

Wyatt shot her a dark look before returning his gaze to the road.

Casey shrunk down in her chair, unused to the expression on her driver's face. Wyatt was normally so happy-go-lucky, so cheerful and silly and just an all around nice guy that to see him so cold and reserved was unnerving. He hadn't even been this way toward her after he found out about her relations with Chris. What had she done wrong now?

Wyatt pulled the car off the main avenue and headed down Prescott Street. Pulling up behind the neighbor's garbage cans, the young man parked the car, immediately shutting off the engine. However, he made no move to exit the vehicle. Instead, he'd taken a moment to sort out his thoughts before he turned to face her.

The Twice Blessed saw a glint of fear in her eyes. He let out a breath. "I didn't mean to scare you. I'm sure you've had enough of that for the day."

"Excuse me?"

Wyatt put his hands on the steering wheel, unable to look into her soft brown eyes without thinking about wanting to do great physical harm to whoever caused her to lose her faith in people, to put the initial glimmer of self-doubt and trepidation in those deep chocolate pools. If he lost his temper right now, something might explode, though.

"Just get inside." he ordered, still not looking at her.

Grabbing her bag off the floor by her feet, the young woman rolled her eyes. Shoving open the door, she got out of the car, shutting the door harder than necessary behind her. Marching through the lawn and ploughing her way up the steps, Casey didn't turn around until she was in the entryway.

Wyatt was close on her heels, having jogged to catch up to her. He took her by the elbow and orbed them both into his room. Once they rematerialized, he released the now fuming girl. He waited for her to yell. To say something at least. Nothing. "Well?"

"Well, what?"

"You're mad at me. Say so."

The young woman folded her arms over her chest and shrugged indifferently. "I'm tired of being jerked around. I thought we were passed the you hating me stage. Now, the silent treatment in the car, the marching orders once we got here, and that weird comment about scaring me...I don't need this today."

"I know."

"You know? What do you think you know?"

Wyatt let out a breath, his eyes staring at the brown carpet. "Molly saw your wrist. She told Chris-"

"-Who told you," she finished.

The young woman nodded, biting her lip. Her eyes stung and without her realizing precisely why, began to fill with tears. She swallowed down the lump in her throat as she used the palm of her hands to smash the emotion out of her eyes. When she looked up at Wyatt, his blue eyes were softer than she'd ever seen them. It was like looking into the ocean on a sunny day.

"I know I'm not the brother you probably want to talk to about this," Wyatt began. "But I'm the one here right now. I'll help you, if you let me."

Casey's voice was almost inaudible. "It's no big deal."

"Someone hurt you. In my book, that's a big deal."

"He didn't know what he was doing."

"Classic excuse of a victim," Wyatt argued. "The girl I grew up with was anything but a victim."

"Don't pretend like you still know me, Wyatt," she snapped. She immediately regretted saying it. She didn't mean to sound so harsh. She was just so tired, emotionally drained beyond any capacity for a conversation this demanding.

Wyatt's face darkened, his eyes clouding over. His voice was deeper than she had ever heard it when he responded, "I know you better than anyone. I always have. How could I not? After all, we both know how I feel about you."

Casey blushed, looking away. "I don't know– "

"– Don't," he sharply cut in. "I'm tired of playing games. Sick of doing the right thing and being the nice guy. It's exhausting. I know you don't feel that way for me. I get it. I'm not as stupid as people seem to think I am. You're still in love with Chris. I see it. I see the way you look at him, how your eyes take on this inner light and have this almost ethereal glow. I wished for years you'd look at me that way just once."

"Wyatt..."

"I'm not done. I've stayed silent for years, so now, it's my turn to say everything I've always wanted. Starting with you and Chris. He doesn't love you like that anymore. He cut you out of his life the day you left the country. He got all angsty and moody and sullen for months. He was obsessed with hunting demons. Then, he met Molly, and she brought him back to life. She is the best thing that has ever happened to him. He loves her completely. She's his number one woman now. Not you."

Casey nodded, her eyes burning as pain slipped off her lashes and trickled down her cheeks. She wiped it roughly away. "Gee, this was a great pep talk. All I need now is an energy ball to the head and my day's complete."

As she turned to leave, the Twice Blessed took hold of her arm. "I'm not saying this to hurt you. It's the last thing I want, but you seem way too blind to get it on your own. So, if breaking your heart is the only way to save it, so be it."

"Real noble, Wy, but has it ever occurred to you that maybe I don't _want_ you to save me?"

"Maybe not, but you need someone to because the way you're going. . .it scares the hell out of me."

Looking into his eyes just then, the young woman saw the sincere fear etched into the ice. She lowered her gaze, relenting.

"I get that you and Chris are best friends," Wyatt continued, "but you have to let anything else go."

"I know. I'm trying. It just..." she drifted off, hugging herself. "He didn't come."

"What?"

"You said Molly told him, and he told you. Chris knows what happened, but he didn't care enough to come himself. He sent you to do his dirty work for him. Like instead of his best friend, I'm just...I don't even know what I am anymore. Certainly not important it seems."

Wyatt didn't really have an answer for her. He was a little disappointed in his sibling to tell the truth. Chris had picked seeing his girlfriend over helping his best friend. Granted the two rarely got to see each other these days and were struggling through some issues, but it still struck Wyatt as wrong.

Casey shrugged. "It just hurts a little."

"I'm sorry."

After a moment of silence, Casey made a decision. She looked into Wyatt's soft face and confessed, "Sam was the one. He was strung out on something, completely out of it. It was like he was a totally different person. The guy I loved never would have laid a hand on anyone, but now..."

"I should have known. Chris said Sam had gotten into some pretty serious drugs. Not to mention how he's the only one you would even think about protecting. Anyone else would have pulled what he did, they'd have been in a world of hurt knowing you."

"What happened to him?" She softly asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed. "How could he do something so stupid as getting hooked on drugs?"

"Pressure," Wyatt answered. "He's a senior. It's his last chance to get noticed by the scouts. I guess he felt it was his only shot at getting away from his dad once and for all."

"His dad was cruel," Casey agreed. "The things he would say to Sam...it was awful."

"I'm sorry that happened today. I really am. It won't happen again though. Chris and I will make sure of it."

"Chris. Right."

Wyatt moved to sit next to her on the bed. "He still cares about you. It's just different now."

"Everything is."

"What do you mean?"

"Dad is gone. Sam is a violent drug user. Chris is with Molly, and our friendship isn't exactly doing so well. I feel like Jess is the only one that hasn't changed."

"What about me?"

"You said it, Wy. We both know how you feel about me. Now that it's in the open, everything between us is going to be different. Things will get weird and awkward, and I'm always going to worry I'm doing something to hurt you...again."

"Why do you think change always has to be bad?"

"Mostly because up to this point, it always has been."

The older teenager's face filled with thoughtfulness. He stared into Casey's face, debating something with himself.

"What?" she asked. "You have a funny look on your face."

"Why Chris?"

The young woman blushed, pushing her hair behind her ear. "What?"

"Why are you attracted to Chris?"

"You don't want to hear about this..."

"I do."

"Wyatt, this is a bad idea."

He locked his gaze on hers. "Tell me. Please."

Casey let out a breath. "Okay, I guess it's the fact he was my best friend. We had all these things in common, and I could trust him whole heartedly. Not to mention he kind of has this bad boy with a heart of gold persona."

"You and I have a lot in common too," Wyatt observed. "And you seem to trust me."

Realizing where he was going, "Wyatt, don't do this."

"You think I'm safe? Is that the problem? I'm not edgy enough? I'm not sarcastic or sullen or constantly getting myself into trouble?"

"You're you and Chris is Chris, and this conversation is only going to end badly."

"If you're my friend you'll be honest. Tell me."

"Fine. Yes. You're safe. You've always been the good guy. The guy next door. Mr. Goodie Two Shoes. The Golden Boy. You're predictable, and I need a guy with some mischief and adventure."

Wyatt nodded, mulling over her words. "Okay, well, here's the problem with that idea..."

Before she knew what was happening, the Twice Blessed had slipped his arm around her and pulled her into him, capturing her lips with his. The kiss was neither soft nor sweet, but passionate and demanding.

His other hand slid down her side, slipping behind her, his hot palm pressing firmly into the small of her back, forcing her to be pressed tighter against him.

Casey pulled back, eyes wide. She opened her mouth to respond, but found no words available.

"I want you," Wyatt stated. "I've wanted you for a long time. I'm not going to make any apologies for it either."

"I just had a really crappy day," She started, an odd look in her eyes.

Wyatt waited for the yelling to commence, bracing himself for the consequences of his actions.

They didn't come the way he had imagined. Instead, Casey moved closer to him again, slipping one leg to the other side of him, straddling him in a way that immediately made his blood run hotter. She crushed his mouth with hers, her tongue exploring his mouth. Then, she began kissing his neck, pausing to whisper, "Make me forget, Wyatt."

The Twice Blessed felt a strange cold knot form in his stomach, but as she continued her expert ministrations, her hands roaming over him just the way he'd always imagined, it began to melt away, and he let himself be swept away by her needful caresses and hot kisses.

0000

Chris held his hand over Molly's eyes as they entered into the special room he'd prepared for their dinner. He could feel her lashes tickling the palm of his hand and couldn't hold back the smile forming. He couldn't wait to see the look on her face when she saw what he had in store for them.

"Can I see yet?"

"Be patient. It'll be worth it."

Molly smirked, as she felt his warm hand gently guiding her down some stairs and into what she imagined was the special location he'd arranged for their date. Her stomach was full of butterflies as she imagined the romantic setting he'd prepared. She had no idea how much better it would actually be.

"Okay," Chris announced, removing his hand from her eyes. He took a step back to better view her reaction. "Open them."

As her hazel eyes flew open they immediately went as wide as a child's on Christmas morning. The same awe stricken look filled her gaze as she witnessed in living proof exactly how much her boyfriend loved her.

They were in an empty P3, the lights set on their lowest setting with a dim blue light creating a mystical moonlit atmosphere. Rose petals littered the floor, creating a path to the family's special table, which was lined in a bright white cloth, and had a light sprinkling of the silky red petals as well. On the center of the table was a single, tall white candle, gently flickering.

As Molly turned to tell Chris how amazing it all was, he held up a finger.

Flicking up his hand, tiny orb lights scattered over the ceiling, twinkling like stars on the darkness overhead. After this was completed, he moved over to the bar, leaning over it and flipping on the sound system, which began to play _Love of a Lifetime_.

Chris turned to Molly, whose smile covered her whole face and lit her eyes. He proffered his own large smile while extending a hand in her direction. "Dance with me."

"I thought you didn't dance," Molly teased, recalling the statement he'd made on their first date.

"Turns out, I can, but only with you."

He gently bent down, his lips just barely sweeping over hers, mimicking the soft touch of her lashes on his palm. He pulled away, staring down into her eyes. "I love you."

"I love you too, so much."

The witchlighter bent his head to rest it against the side of hers as they swayed back and forth in time with the music, nearly every part of their bodies touching as each enjoyed the closeness of the other.

"How did you manage all this?" Molly asked.

"Mom helped."

The young woman smiled, positioning her head on his chest as they slow danced. However, in the silence of their togetherness, her thoughts began to plague her. He showed how much he loved her with all the thought and effort he had put into arranging this date, and how had she repaid him? She had manipulated him into abandoning his friend. He deserved better than that.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to remain focused on the feeling of his heart pounding under his shirt, the way his hands were firm but gentle as they guided her, twirling over the dance floor.

Nothing quieted the thoughts. Over and over she heard: you betrayed his trust.

As the song slowly wound down, ending on a bitter sweet note, Molly pulled away from his grasp, knowing what she had to do to right things with the man she loved once and for all.

Chris smiled down at her before moving over to the system and turning down the volume. "I figure we have a little dinner and then maybe dance some more. What do you say?"

"Chris..."

Her boyfriend frowned at the uncertainty in her tone. "We can dance more now if you want...whatever you want to do. Tonight is yours."

"It shouldn't be."

"Hey, I made a pretty big mess out of things the other day. Let me make it up to you."

"No," Molly insisted. "Everything so far has really been my fault. I was the one who was jealous, and I don't deserve all this."

Chris took the last few steps to reach her side before wrapping his arms around her. "You deserve it. We both do. Can't we just enjoy our time together?"

The young woman pulled away. "No. We can't because I did something I'm really not proud of, and I'm hoping that you can forgive me."

"Molly, what are you talking about?"

"Earlier today, I...I sort of manipulated you. God, Chris, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I mean, I do. I wanted to be with you, and I didn't want anything getting in the way. I just wanted one night of you and me and nothing and no one else. Just one night to make up for all the bad stuff that's happened lately. So, I convinced you to let Wyatt deal with Casey, when in all honesty, if I was giving you good advice and being a good girlfriend, I would have just told you to go be with her and help her."

Chris didn't respond.

"Please, say something."

"I don't really know what to say."

Molly closed her eyes as she bit her lip, nodding slowly.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Because you did all of this for me," the future whitelighter answered. "You made this fairy tale place for us to be, and put so much thought into it, and I can't enjoy it knowing what I did. You did all this, and it just shows again how much you love me, and I need to show you how much I love you by being honest and telling you that you should go be with her. Your friend needs you."

Chris nodded, absorbing the information. "Okay."

"Okay? That's all you're going to say?"

Chris shrugged. "I'm not sure what to think. I mean, I get why you did it, and it's not like it took much to convince me. I've missed you. I want to spend time with the woman I love. I'm kind of pissed that you manipulated me instead of just saying what you wanted in the first place."

"I know. I'm sorry."

The young man saw the fear in her eyes and smiled softly. "Relax, I'm not furious with you. I am mad, but since you're being honest now, I can't really hold it against you, especially considering I lied yesterday."

Molly let out a breath of relief. "Okay. I can deal with that."

After a few minutes of tense silence, the young woman couldn't take it anymore. "So. . .what now?"

"Dinner," Chris answered slowly. "Then, I'm going to have to cut things short and go see how things are going with Case and Wyatt. Make sure she's okay, and they aren't killing each other."

"Are you sure you don't want to go now?"

Chris smiled, sliding a hand behind her neck. "Positive."

The witchlighter teased her lips with his, smiling through the kiss as she melted into his arms like she always did. As he slowly parted from her, he brushed her long bangs from her eyes, kissing her forehead lightly. He offered his hand, "Let's eat."

Molly took his hand, knowing with all her heart he'd forgiven her already, and the two of them were going to wind up closer than ever because after this, she had no more doubts about where Chris' heart lay. It was hers and hers alone. Nothing and no one could change that.

0000

Chris closed the doors of the manor behind him, while taking off his coat. He opened the closet and shoved it inside as he glanced around at the unlit house.

Normally at this time in the evening his father would be watching sitcoms while his mom finished cleaning up the kitchen with his or Wyatt's help. It was strange that neither parent was home right now. Then he remembered it was a Tuesday and his father had a late night class. It still didn't explain his mother though.

He shut the closet and moved to toss his keys on the table in the entry. That's when he saw the note from his mom:

_Richards is sick. At restaurant till close. Leftovers are in the fridge. _

Love,

Mom

Well, that certainly explained that. 

Chris jogged up the stairs, heading for Wyatt's room. He paused outside the door, a little surprised to find it shut in the first place. He knocked.

No answer.

He wrapped on the door.

Nothing.

Getting frustrated he grabbed the handle and turned it, pushing open the door. What he found when it was open was anything but what he had been expecting.

Clothes scattered over the carpet leading up to the bed where his brother was lying fast asleep, covered in nothing but a small throw blanket which barely hid the Twice Blessed's lower half. His upper body was completely bare, his back rising and falling in steady breaths while his arm draped over the woman in his bed– Casey,who had wrapped herself tightly in a sheet.

The young woman was wide awake and staring back at Chris with tears streaming down her face.

tbc. . .


	10. Crash and Burn

Due to all the great reviews I got for the last chapter, I was inspired to write this chapter right away. :)

CHAPTER 10

Crash and Burn

When he was nine years old, Chris Halliwell had decided it would be fun to climb a tree. He'd found reaching one of the upper branches of the tall oak in the park to be easy, and he'd sat looking down on all the people playing and talking in the park. 

His mom was with his dad on one of the benches talking and cuddling.Every once in a while his father would say something to make his mom get a big bright smile on her face and her eyes would light up. It was fun to get a private show of how much his parents loved one another after all this time, especially when it seemed everyone else's parents were getting divorced.

Tommy Harrison's parents were divorced two years ago. Tori's mom and dad were getting divorced now, and Casey's parents were fighting so often they might as well get divorced.

Casey was actually down below writing in a notebook. Once he'd asked her what she was writing. She had answered, "Stuff people don't notice, and things I wanna remember when I'm old."

He hadn't had a clue what she meant. He figured it was a girl thing.

It was while up in his perch that he'd seen a strange boy about his age come over to Casey and sit down next to her. The other kid had black hair, which swung around in the wind like a bunch of hands waving. Chris immediately didn't like him.

He started to climb down.

The other boy picked a dandelion and handed to the young girl, who blushed and smiled sweetly.

Chris picked up the pace.

The strange boy leaned over and kissed Casey on the cheek.

Chris' foot slipped as he saw some other boy kiss _his_ girl. He reached out to grab onto the tree branch above his head, but his fingers just grazed the leaves and before he could catch hold of another one, he was falling, his face ripped by the edges of smaller branches, his arms and legs whipped by leaves and twigs. His instinct was to orb out of the painful fall, but his mother's voice lecturing on personal gain and magical exposure stopped him from doing so.

He wound up breaking his left arm and cracking a rib. Nothing had hurt more than that cracked rib. His whole body suffered sharp pains every time he tried to move. The worst part was he could barely breathe and when a little air managed to trickle in it burned like acid was filling his chest.

Right now, staring at his best friend and former lover naked in bed with his older brother, Chris felt like he'd fallen out of that tree all over again.

Chris did the only thing he could think to do. He turned around and closed the door behind him.

Once he was out of Wyatt's room, he started toward his own, but found he couldn't get far before his chest started aching and his breath hitched. He leaned his back against the wall for support, squeezing his eyes shut.

Her hands on Wyatt. Lips moist on his brother's skin. Their bodies as one...

The witchlighter's hands balled into fists, shaking with anger and hurt. He turned around and punched the wall, immediately regretting it as his knuckles cracked open and bled from the force of the impact.

"Shit."

He put his head against the wall, closing his eyes. "Shit."

It was so familiar it broke his heart.

_Chris let out a breath as he watched Casey hurry up the stairs of Greg's house to go find Sam._

He needed alcohol. Lots and lots.

Moving over into the kitchen, the young man spotted his friend Kip sitting up on one of the counters, a six pack resting next to him. The slightly younger teen took a swig from his bottle before raising it to Chris. "Hey, Chris. Christopher. Christopher. Why so glum? Come, come, talk to me chum."

Kip started laughing loudly, slapping his knee at what he deemed so very clever.

Chris rolled his eyes, popping open the freezer and grabbing the bottle of Jack Daniels. He didn't bother finding a mixer. He just twisted off the cap and took a gulp.

The other youth's eyebrows moved toward his hairline. "Easy there, Tiger. Vomiting isn't as glamorous as they make it out to be."

"How the hell did I get convinced to come to this thing?"

Kip thought about it momentarily. He suddenly grinned widely, his brown eyes shining from underneath his glasses. "Masochistic?"

"Yeah, must be."

Chris took another shot from the bottle.

"You know, that's not yours."

Chris glared at the other teen.

"But by all means," Kip amended with a wave of his hand.

_"I just don't get what she see's in that jackass. He's not right for her. He's dumb and self-centered and controlling." _

Kip shrugged. "Good sex?"

"Do you want _to be throttled to within an inch of your life?" _

"Well, as long as I have the inch left..."

Jessica came over just then her hand extending to Kip. "I feel the need to dance."

"Well, then," her boyfriend answered, "I guess we're going to dance."

"What about me?" Chris asked.

Jessica waved him off. "Keep your panties on. I'll dance with you next."

As she dragged Kip out of the kitchen, his beer bottle still in hand, Chris shook his head muttering, "Not what I meant."

Letting out a sigh, he moved into the livingroom where the furniture had been pushed to one side to make a dance floor. He leaned against the wall and took another drink from the container still clenched in his hand. His eyes trailed over the people dancing.

Lots of jocks. Most of whom Chris knew through Wyatt, despite his best efforts to avoid them. Cheerleaders clearly followed wherever the athletes went. His older brother was actually dancing with one the witchlighter couldn't recognize.

A group of the elite snobs of the school were dancing in a clump in the far south corner. Sara Burnheart was among them and kept eyeing him suggestively. He swallowed down vomit at the thought.

His eyes suddenly landed on a couple that didn't seem to quite belong here. One was a tall, skinny guy Chris believed was in Wyatt's grade. The other was a larger sized girl who seemed to think wearing oversized clothes all in black would make her disappear. Though, he didn't know why she'd want to. From what he could tell she seemed to have a very pretty face, and while on the larger side, her curves (from what he could see of them) were well proportioned. If she dressed better, maybe pulled her wild black hair back out of her face so people could more easily see her pretty hazel eyes, he bet she'd be quite attractive. 

_Chris almost went over to the couple to introduce himself, but_ _a familiar blur started running down the stairs just then, completely drawing his attention away from them. _

The young man ran through the crowd to reach Casey, whose tear stained face was to the ground, causing her to almost run right into him. She looked up as his hands held her arms, and as she saw who it was, buried her face into his chest, her tears moistening his shirt.

"Case, what happened?"

She didn't answer, too busy sobbing in his arms. She was crying so hard her whole body was shaking.

Chris wrapped an arm around her shoulder, keeping her tucked close against his side as he guided her into an unoccupied room, so they could talk. He shut and locked the door behind them as she moved into the center of the room, hugging herself.

"Sam was in bed with Valerie."

Her voice had been so soft Chris almost hadn't heard her.

She turned to face him, swallowing down another sob. "I went to find him, and he was with her." She squeezed shut her eyes. "God, how could I have been so damn stupid?" She opened them again, disbelief evident. " Aren't women supposed to have a sixth sense about this sort of thing? See it coming? I sure didn't. Not at all. I knew he could be a jerk sometimes, but other times he was so sweet and gentle and damn it, I believed him when he told me he loved me."

"Maybe he did," Chris ventured.

"If you love someone, you don't hurt them like this," she argued. "I should have known. I mean, you said he was a jerk, and I didn't listen. I let him in and I . . ."

"Casey?"

"I gave him my virginity," she confessed. "I slept with that...that asshole. I gave him part of myself that I can never get back."

She slumped onto the bed, new tears in her eyes as she buried her face in her hands. "Oh God. I can't believe I let my first be him. Him_." She looked up at Chris, her eyes already turning red as her hair matted onto her wet cheeks. "I feel so dirty, Chris. Like some stupid slut who just gave it away to the first guy that came along with some smooth talking." _

Chris moved to sit next to her on the bed. "You aren't stupid or dirty. You definitely aren't a slut. You loved him. You thought you could trust him. It just turns out in the end that you were wrong. It doesn't completely invalidate your feelings for him. He just wasn't worthy."

She shook her head, clearly not believing him. She wiped her face dry with the palms of her hands only to start new trails down her face almost immediately after despite her fight not to cry anymore.

The young man slid his hand to her cheek. "Look at me. You didn't do anything wrong here. He's the one that messed up. He's the one that couldn't see how amazing you are. I mean, here he had the most beautiful, intelligent, funny girl in the world, and he threw it away. If I had the chance to..." Chris paused, realizing that the amount of alcohol he'd had was starting to catch up with him.

"If you had the chance to what?" Casey asked.

Chris didn't say anything, too busy fighting the rising heat as he looked at her. She was dressed for the party. A short jean skirt that emphasized her nice round ass and her shapely legs that were covered in tall black boots. His eyes trailed upward, catching sight of her shapely chest underneath her black lacy camisole and jean jacket.

Casey frowned, noticing her friend shift uncomfortably. It didn't take a genius to figure out why he was fidgeting. She looked down to find her suspicions confirmed. Her brown eyes quickly rose to his green. "Chris, you...you want me?" 

_He leaned toward her, his lips capturing hers as one hand slid behind her neck while the other cupped the side of her breast. Her lips were so soft against his, and as his tongue lightly teased her upper lip, he tasted a light watermelon flavor. He explored deeper. _

Then realized what he was doing and jumped back away from her. His green eyes were wide as he stared at his friend, horrified by his actions. "Oh god. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Casey, eyes shining brightly, smiled softly. "I've never been touched like that before. The kiss...god, Chris, my whole body is still tingling."

"You're not pissed?"

The young woman smiled softly as she scooted closer to him again. She softly pushed his bangs from his eyes her hand trailing the side of his face. "How could I be mad about you wanting me? You're you. You're my best friend. I love you."

"I actually wanted to do that for a long time now," Chris confessed.

"I wish you would have done it sooner," she softly replied. "Maybe then I never would have been with that ass."

Her deep eyes stared into his jade as her mouth softly swept against his. One hand moved to the back of his head, her fingers running through his silky hair while the other caressed his toned arm before moving over his hard chest. She tilted her head, moving to nibble lightly on the sensitive flesh behind his ear. As he let out a light moan, she whispered with a smile on her face, "It should have been you all along."

It was all the encouragement the hot blooded American male needed to slip her jacket off before gently pushing her back onto the bed. The rest of their clothes soon followed the jacket and with both passion and sweetness the two made love for the first time, Casey soothing Chris' nerves with soft murmurs as he lost his virginity to his best friend, and she fell in love with hers.

When it was complete, they laid together, legs and arms entwined. She was the first to speak, a joy in her voice that Chris hadn't heard in a long while. "Wow. Just...wow."

"It was okay?"

Casey stared up from his chest. "I've never felt like this before, Chris. I swear. This was the most beautiful and amazing..." her voice broke with emotion. "Being connected to you...feeling you with me...one of the best moments of my life. I can't even describe it."

He smiled softly down at her. "I know exactly what you mean though. I felt it too."

Chris had never forgotten his first time. It had been incredible. The passionate heat and lack of control combined with the safety and warmth of being in her arms, being one with his best friendwas like nothing he'd ever felt before then or after. 

Now, it seemed it hadn't been that special after all.

She had just used him. He'd meant nothing to her.

"Chris?"

The young man turned around to find Casey standing behind him, tears soaking her face much like they had that night. She was wearing Wyatt's long shirt, which came down to her knees.

"Please, say something."

"There isn't anything to say," he replied cooly. "Go back to Wyatt."

The young man turned his back on her, heading to his room.

"Chris, no. Just listen to me," she begged, her hand grabbing hold of his arm as her deep brown eyes looked up into his face. Her eyes were two pools of desperation, rivulets of shame and guilt shining down each cheek. "Please, don't walk away from me."

"Why shouldn't I?" Chris snapped, jerking his arm free. "I can barely look at you right now. Is this your new coping mechanism? Fuck the nearest available guy?" 

She shook her head, her chin quivering as the shame and guilt rivulets became full on rivers. "No. No. That's not it. That's not true."

"Save it. I'm not stupid. I see the pattern. Sam cheats on you. Solution? Screw Chris for a couple months to get over it. Sam attacks you at school. Solution? Have sex with Wyatt."

She swallowed hard, still shaking her head. "No. It wasn't about Sam. It's _never_ been about Sam."

"Whatever," he replied. "I'm out of here. Go cry on Wyatt's shoulder. He'll be more than happy to play the part of your next fuck puppet."

"Chris, you weren't. I loved you."

Her words went unheard as the teenager disappeared in a column of light.

She slid down the wall, her knees up to her chin as she sobbed. "I still do..."

0000

Molly walked out of her adjoining bathroom brushing her long black hair and pulling it back into a ponytail. It wasn't until she finished wrapping the hair tie around that she noticed her boyfriend sitting on the edge of her bed.

He was slouched over, head down, hands lying limp in his lap.

"Chris?"

The young man looked up, his eyes glassy. "Can I stay here tonight?"

"Chris, what's wrong? What happened?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Maybe you should."

Chris shot her a look.

"Okay, maybe not..."

"Can I stay here or not?"

Molly sat down next to him on the bed. "I thought you were supposed to help Casey with the demon?"

"Wyatt's helping her now."

"Doesn't she need all the help she can get?"

"Not from me," he answered firmly.

The tone of his voice unnerved the future whitelighter. She'd never thought Chris could be so cold, especially toward someone he cared for so much. Whatever had happened at the manor had to have been pretty bad. She wanted to know what exactly had transpired in the short time they'd been apart, but knew her boyfriend well enough to realize he'd just get angry and pull away if she tried to pry. He had to come to her on his terms.

Chris suddenly flopped backward on the bed, staring up at the ceiling.

His girlfriend laid down next to him on the bed, her head moving to rest tentatively on his chest. She smiled in relief as his arm came to wrap around her. She snuggled closer to him, her arm draping over him.

Chris just kept staring at the ceiling.

Maybe falling out of the tree had actually hurt less after all...

tbc. . .


	11. Wake Me Up Before You Go

CHAPTER 11

Wake Me Up Before You Go

Wyatt smiled softly as he slowly climbed his way out of slumber. He rolled over onto his back while stretching out his arms. His left hand reached over, touching that side of his bed. He opened his eyes to find the woman he'd slept with was no longer there.

He sat up swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. Grabbing the jeans lying on the floor, he pulled them on while getting to his feet. He ambled over to the end of the bed looking for his shirt, but it seemed to be missing. Frowning, a little confused, he pulled one out of the hamper, sniffed it, then threw it on over his head.

Exiting his room he glanced down the hall toward Chris' to find the light off. He turned to look up toward the attic door, a light pouring out from under the crack. He jogged up the stairs and lightly pushed open the door to find Casey, in his shirt and a pair of sweat pants, standing in the middle of the attic, in the middle of a conversation on her cell.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Don't worry about it. The Charmed Ones aren't even here, and I don't know what we could do on our own." Pause. "Jess, I said it's fine. You can't help work. If they need you to stay late, then you stay late." A longer break. "I do not sound funny. I'm fine. Really. Just tired." A breath. "Okay, I love you too. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye."

"She's not coming over?" Wyatt guessed.

Casey visibly jumped at the sound of his voice. "Wyatt. Hi. I didn't know you were awake."

"Just woke up."

"Oh."

Wyatt narrowed his eyes, trying to get a better view in the poor lighting. If his eyes didn't betray him, hers were red and puffy. He folded his arms over his chest as he kept studying her. She was jittery, running her hands through her hair, her eyes looking anywhere but at him. Her weight was constantly shifting from one foot to the other.

The Twice Blessed let out a breath, running his hands through his hair. "I really messed this up."

"Messed what up?"

He smiled wryly at her. "You know what."

She looked down.

"You feel guilty," Wyatt went on. "Think you used poor dumb Wyatt to get over Chris, and now, I'm going to be all heart broken. Right?"

Her head whipped up, tears moistening her eyes all over again. "Wyatt, I didn't mean to–"

"– Hold on," he cut her off. "Let me talk first. Then, if you have something to say, you can. Deal? Okay, then. Firstly, you are the definition of emotional chaos, and I should have known better, so if it's a contest of who's the one to blame– I win. Second of all, I'm acutely, painfully, bitterly aware of how you feel for Chris. Love like that doesn't just disappear. I'm not upset about that. I'm not upset about anything that happened. Not for anything you did anyway. I'm pretty pissed off at myself right now. I'm a hypocrite. I punched Chris for taking advantage of you, and now, I've done the exact same thing."

"You didn't take advantage of me," she argued. "I took advantage of you. I knew how you felt about me, and I. . .god, Wyatt, I _used_ you. How can you not hate me for that? How can you look at me and not be completely disgusted?"

"Easy. I got to make love to you," he answered softly. He gave a little shrug, "It wasn't ideal, but for a little while, I got to be the one with you. While, it was a huge mistake, I can't bring myself to regret it."

She forced herself to stare back into his sweet blue gaze. "You need to stop loving me. I'm toxic. I should come with a Mr. Yuck sticker plastered to my forehead. Everywhere I go, disaster ensues. Get it through your head, Wyatt. You should hate me."

Wyatt moved forward, wrapping his arms around her.

She tried to free herself from his grasp, but he held strong. She struggled, tears slipping off her lashes. "I'm not the girl next door. I'm trash. A dirty, worthless slut," she sobbed, Chris' words from earlier echoing around in her skull.

I can barely look at you right now. Go cry on Wyatt's shoulder. He'll be more than happy to play the part of your next fuck puppet. 

"A stupid whore...I'll just spread them for anyone I guess."

Wyatt shook her sharply, his gaze jagged ice. "Enough. Look at me. Look at me."

Her tear stained brown met his solid cerulean.

"You're in a lot of pain right now. Indescribable. You just wanted to stop feeling so awful for a few minutes, and you thought sleeping with me would do it. Does it hurt me? Yeah. It does, but I already told you, I get it. It's mostly my own fault. It's human to make mistakes like the one we made."

"I've ruined everything."

"No," Wyatt cupped her face lightly. "You haven't. I'm still here. Maybe you don't want me to be, but I am. I love you, and that means through the bad stuff too."

Casey swallowed, taking a deep breath. "I wish I could be who you think I am."

Wyatt held her close, stroking her hair with his hand. "You are. You've just lost your way."

0000

Molly sighed as she watched her boyfriend stare off into nothing. He hadn't said a word about what had happened yet. She was worried. It wasn't like him to shirk his duties as a witch and especially not as a friend.

"I don't know how to fix it," Chris stated out of the blue.

"Maybe, if you tell me, I can help."

Chris turned his head to look at her. His green eyes clouded over. "I'm worried about what you'll think."

"I won't judge. Just tell me."

The young man let out a breath, pursing his lips as he thought about how to word what he wanted to explain to her. After a moment he began, "I walked in on Wyatt with Casey."

"Talking?"

Chris shook his head.

"Kissing?"

The young man looked back to the ceiling.

"Oh. Oh boy." She raised her eyebrows. "They were doing. . ._that_. Awkward."

"Awkward?" Chris repeated. "Try horrifying. Or crushing. Or completely betrayed."

"Don't you think you're over-reacting a tad? I understand that it would be hard for you since she was your...well, your first, but she's your friend. He's your brother. If they've found each other, then shouldn't you be a little happy for them?"

Chris shot her a look. "She was crying."

"In a wow- that- was- really- good sort of way?" she hoped.

"More like in a I- can't- believe- I- just- did- this sort of way." Chris shook his head, his gaze burning a hole in the ceiling. "She used him. She was upset, so her solution was to sleep with Wyatt."

"So?"

Chris' head whipped around, his eyes sharp as he looked on her. "So? What do you mean 'so'? She used Wyatt. He has feelings for her, and she used him."

"Wyatt's a tough guy," Molly countered, "he made the choice to go through with it. He'll have to deal with the ramifications. It's none of your business."

"None of my business?" Chris spat in shock. "How can you say that it's none of my business? He's my brother, and she's my best friend. She was my..."

"Lover," his girlfriend supplied knowingly. "And that's the part that's got you all bothered isn't it? Your first lover slept with Wyatt. You're jealous."

Chris opened his mouth to yell in protest, but closed it again before any words came out.

He leaned up on one elbow, looking down at his girlfriend. She deserved the truth. "Okay, I'm not jealous. It's just. . . I loved her. I'll be honest. I did. I never said so, so she never knew. Then, everything happened at that party, and she was upset, and I was drunk, and we slept together, but I always thought..." He let out a breath, "I always thought it was because I was special to her."

Molly surprised herself by not overreacting to that bit of information. Okay, he'd loved someone else, but that was in the past. He was with her now, and the fact he was confiding in her somehow made her feel more sure of her place in his life. She decided to keep guiding him through his feelings. "But now because she slept with Wyatt you're not sure?"

"It seems like that's just her thing now. What happened with us didn't mean anything. It was just something that happened, just like what happened tonight with Wyatt."

It was Molly's turn to let out a breath. She frowned, trying to puzzle it out. "Okay, so let me see if I have this right. You're not jealous of the fact she slept with Wyatt."

"No."

"But it ticks you off because it somehow nullifies your time with her?"

"It sounds so stupid when you say it. I just always thought there had to be something special about that night though. Like she actually wanted _me_ not just some guy."

Molly smiled softly, finally understanding. "You feel like she used you all that time? Like you were just another warm body."

"Yeah," Chris ducked his head, embarrassed, "and it hurts like hell."

Molly covered his hand with hers. "Do you really honestly believe that? She was your best friend. It's so easy to see how much you care about her. You don't care about people that easily. Are you sure your instincts were so wrong all this time?"

Chris gave her hand a gentle squeeze. After a moment of deliberation he answered, "I think I've been a real ass about all this."

"I hate to say it, but. . .kinda." Molly put her hand to his face. "I understand how you can be a little possessive toward her since she's always been your best friend and is the girl you lost your virginity to, but from what I could tell just in the few minutes I saw her earlier today, she's not keeping it together very well. I'd say she's on the brink and ready to fall over. She needs her best friend now more than ever, and just because she might have made a mistake with Wyatt doesn't make her a horrible person. He should have known better, but I guess he's so blinded by his feelings for her, he couldn't help it."

"Bullshit he couldn't," her boyfriend argued. "He was stone cold sober, and if you really love someone you do what's best for them. He used her vulnerability to get in her pants."

"Okay, so you're done defending Wyatt all of the sudden? I thought he was used? That Casey used him..."

"Maybe, she did, but you were right. He could have stopped it. Should have. He had no business laying a finger on her when she's so unstable."

Molly folded her arms over her chest, quirking a brow at him. "Kettle? Black. Pot? Oddly enough also black."

"That was totally different."

She gave him a look.

"I was drunk."

"That's not an excuse. You can't go all half-cocked on Wyatt for doing something you yourself did. I say you let both of them off the hook and forget it."

"I don't know if I can. I hate this whole freaking situation. It's just wrong. And messed up. Did I mention wrong?"

"Once or twice."

"I hate this."

"Noted."

"Really from the bottom of my gut hate this."

"Gotcha."

"I feel like I'm stuck in the middle. I'm pissed at her for using my brother, and I'm furious with him for sleeping with her knowing what a disaster she is right now."

"So talk to them."

"Shit."

"Okay, care to explain the sudden expletive?"

"I can't talk to her. Not after what I said to her," he explained, horrified. "It was all so raw then, and I didn't know why I was so pissed off, and I just lashed out. She was already so upset, probably realizing just what a huge mistake she'd made, and I...oh shit."

Molly moved her hand to his arm. "Chris, what did you say?"

"I..." he winced. "I basically called her a slut and Wyatt her new bed buddy, only in more ugly terms."

"Not your finest moment," his girlfriend agreed. "But you can fix it. It's never too late."

Chris smiled weakly at her. "You're going to make an amazing whitelighter someday."

"Huh?"

He shook his head. "Never mind."

The witchlighter leaned over, kissing her softly.

"What was that for?" she asked.

"You could have gotten really angry with me for how I reacted. Might have even accused me of being jealous or something, but you didn't. You just let me talk and sort things out, and I appreciate it."

"Does this mean we're even? I acted awful this afternoon, and you did tonight?"

Chris let out a short laugh. "Yeah, I guess."

"We should get over to the manor."

"We?"

"You'll need alone time with Casey to apologize, and I figure Wyatt might need someone to talk to too. You can't do both at once."

"That's why I love you. You think of everything."

Molly gave a little shrug. "Knew there had to be some reason you kept me around."

Pulling her against his side, Chris orbed them off to the manor.

0000

Casey looked up from the novel she had to read for class when she heard a soft knock on the door. She gently set down _To the Lighthouse_, and moved to see who was knocking. When she pulled open the door, she was surprised to find Chris standing on the other side.

"Can I come in?"

She swallowed down the hurt and gestured for him to enter, her voice cold as she responded, "Your room."

"Thanks."

Shutting the door behind him, the young woman leaned against it for support, arms folded in a defensive position. "So, come to call me more names? Tell me what a pathetic mess of a whore I am?"

"No," the young man answered softly. He turned to look at her, his eyes glowing eerily in the light of the bedside lamp. "I actually came for something else."

"Okay...what?"

"You trust me?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Not real sure these days."

"You love me don't you?" he pressed. "I saw it. I know it's true."

Casey flushed.

"See, you do."

"What is this about, Chris?" the girl asked. "Why are you asking me this?"

He tilted his head to the side, a blank look on his face. "It won't work unless you do."

"What won't work? What are you talking about?"

"You answer mine, and I'll answer yours."

Casey hugged herself, looking down at the floor. "Yeah. I love you. I always have."

"Good."

The young man gave her a small half smile before moving toward her with deliberate intent, wrapping his arms around her, pressing her body firmly against his own while capturing her lips with his. At the same time, he dug his nails into her, drawing blood.

Casey shoved him back. "What the hell is the matter with you? What about Molly? The woman you claim to love?" At the same time, she reached behind her to her neck, feeling the warm sticky spot where he'd clawed her. She pulled her hand back and saw the smudge of red.

"Good night," Chris softly whispered as she fell forward into his arms completely unconscious.

The young man grinned viciously while blinking a second set of eyelids. "Injection complete."

tbc. . .


	12. Wicked Game

CHAPTER 12

Wicked Game

Wyatt casually flipped another page of the Book of Shadows, wrinkling his nose at the description of a particularly nasty looking demon named Pishachas, which according to the Book of Shadows was a form of cannibalistic, flesh eating demon. The creature's skin was pitch black, with rich purple veins bulging from underneath. Their eyes were blood red, protruding out from their head like two high beamed taillights. Pastimes include lurking in the night with their super duper power of invisibility and haunting cremation grounds. They also apparently have the power to change into any shape at will. However, the Twice Blessed's favorite part was the bit about how their victims could be possessed and get all sorts of different maladies ranging from insanity to eventual death. 

Good times.

He turned the page again, but as he was about to take a look at the next good time guy or gal, the sound of orb lights floating through the air drew his attention upward. He smiled weakly as his sibling and Molly formed out of the lights. "Hey, Guys."

Chris set his jaw, his tone stoic as he cut to the chase. "Where's Case?"

The Twice Blessed let his eyes slide to Molly, who was smiling nervously. So, something was definitely up with his little brother. He turned his attention back to the other witchlighter. "She's downstairs doing homework. Why?"

"Figure she needs a friend right now," came the terse reply.

Molly cleared her throat, her smile widening to a plastic look.

Her boyfriend noticed and took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair. "Okay, I can't pretend. I've got to say it. Wyatt, what the hell were you thinking?"

"You know," Wyatt stated more than asked.

"Yeah, I do."

Molly stepped between the two, still trying her best to keep a smile on. "Chris, remember, forgive and forget. Forgive and _forget_."

Wyatt set the book down next to him on the couch, rising to his full height in order to stare down his sibling's dark gaze. "You have something to say, go ahead and say it."

"You're a hypocrite, Wyatt. You lectured me about what I did, so now, it's your turn. Stay the hell away from her. She's got enough to deal with without you throwing your issues on her, and pressuring her to do something she didn't really want to do."

"I didn't pressure her."

"I don't really give a damn what happened," Chris shot back. "I just know her emotions are everywhere these days, and what you did tonight was a real dick of a thing to do. I asked you to watch out for her, take care of her, and instead, you used it as an opportunity to get into bed with her."

Molly winced. "Oh boy. Uh, Chris, remember the goal here..."

"I love her," Wyatt announced.

Molly's eyes went wide, her hands flying to her mouth.

Chris' mouth fell open. "You what?"

"I love her," Wyatt repeated just as firmly.

"That's nice," Molly tried. "Isn't that nice, Chris?"

He shot her a look.

"Okay...maybe not quite ready for that yet..."

Chris shook his head. "You are _un_believable, you know that? You say you love her? Well, here's a thought. How about you do what's best for her then. Stay away from her until she's sorted out the mess that has become her life."

"Who the hell are you to tell me what to do, Little Brother?"

"Don't call me that."

"Guys," Molly started.

"Grow up, Chris. You're not her keeper anymore. You have officially lost the right to that title."

"I beg to differ."

A little more hopelessly, Molly called, "Guys?"

"Oh really?" Wyatt challenged, "Try this on for size: You've hurt her far more than I ever have or could."

"I did not."

"What about cutting off all ties to her? Don't think that killed her inside? Let me tell you, it did. She told me so."

Chris looked momentarily stung before shooting back, "At least I didn't use her father's death as a way to hook up."

Molly's eyes went wide in horror.

"No, you just used her first love cheating on her. Then, once you had your fun, you forgot she ever existed. You don't even know what you've done to her."

"What are you talking about?"

The young woman watched the two boys like one might watch a tennis match if the ball was set to explode after a randomly chosen number of volleys. Wincing and cringing, knowing total decimation will occur, but unable to stop watching.

Wyatt thought about telling Chris all about Casey's feelings, and just how deeply his brother had hurt his supposed best friend, but in the end, bit his tongue, knowing that he wouldn't just be hurting his brother by exposing the big secret. Molly and Casey would both fall with him. Neither of the girls deserved it.

"What, Wyatt? Suddenly, you don't remember?"

"Never mind," the older brother lowly replied.

Molly, unable to stand the tension between the two young men, suddenly put two fingers in her mouth and gave off a shrill whistle, catching both witchlighters by surprise. She put her hands on her hips, looking frighteningly similar to their mother by doing so. "You two are ridiculous. You're best friends and brothers, and you are at each other's throats. And over what? You both made the same mistake, and I don't care about circumstances. I really really don't. The important thing to focus on right now is not your personal feelings. It is about helping Casey. Hell, I don't even know the girl, and I'd swear I'm the only one actually concerned with truly helping her at this point. You two idiots are too busy blaming the other one to remember how upset she is, not to mention the big bad demon still after her, so can we cut the crap and start working together now?"

Both Chris and Wyatt wore identical faces of shock, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. All either could do was blink in response.

Molly let out a breath. "Whew, okay, I feel better."

"Where did _that_ come from?" the Twice Blessed asked.

Chris shook his head. "I have no idea."

"I watched Piper do it once," she confessed.

Both boys nodded suddenly understanding perfectly.

"Okay," the lone woman went on, "Now, I want you two to promise to let this all go. Chris, you did the same thing last year, and I know she's your best friend, and you want to protect her, but, and – this is important so open your stubborn ears– Wyatt didn't make the decision alone. He loves her, which I'm sure you're not happy with either at this point, but think of it this way– who would take better care of your best friend than your brother?"

"Didn't do so hot a job tonight."

"I messed up," Wyatt agreed. "I get that. I don't need my kid brother rubbing it in."

Molly stepped between them again. "Ahem. As I was saying," she turned to Wyatt, "I understand why you did what you did, but you shouldn't have. It was a bad decision. However, if you really love her, and from what I can tell, you do, then let her be. If it's meant to happen, it will. Okay?"

"I know."

"And you have to understand how hard this is for Chris because you were in his place last year," she went. "He might have moved on, but that doesn't mean he didn't really love her and seeing her with you is just dandy now. Got it?"

Wyatt cast a look at his brother and gave a grim smile. "Yeah. I'm sorry."

Chris offered a tight lipped grin. "Me too. It's just...I've always looked after her. For as long as I can remember, and tonight..." He ran a hand through his hair. "I should have been here. If I would have handled it, this wouldn't have happened. You guys wouldn't be in this mess."

"We'll deal."

Molly put her arm around the Twice Blessed's, smiling up into his face. "Come on, you and me need to talk, and so do Chris and Casey."

Wyatt nodded, letting himself be guided out of the room by the woman. On the way out, the older brother shot his younger another regret filled look, which he was happy to see returned with a nod of forgiveness.

Once the other two were out of the room, Chris shoved his hands into his pockets and let out a deep breath. "Okay, well, one down, one to go."

0000

Milash jumped slightly as his mentor shimmered into the apartment they shared. He tossed his book, _Wild Nights_,under his bed and leaned back against the headboard, arms and legs folded casually. He quirked a brow at the other man's appearance. "Why do you look like the witch from down in the sewers yesterday?"

The Chris imposter smirked. "Perhaps because he's a Halliwell you no-minded twat."

"A Halliwell?" the other chirped. "You never said _any_thing about us getting involved with the Halliwells. Only the brain dead and chronically suicidal go up against them."

"You're just a child, so I suppose it's only natural the Charmed Ones serve as the equivalent of a human child's boogie man to you. I grant you, they are good. Resourceful, powerful and most of all. . .united."

Milash scratched at his black hair while scrunching up his nose. "So why are you ticking them off again?"

"Because I'm not a child," he smoothly replied, seating himself on the end of the bed. "After Zankou's ridiculous stint as leader, the demonic powers took a tragic hit. Only the young and lower levels survived. The nexus was destroyed. It was an complete disaster."

"You survived."

The demon with Chris' face let the corner of his mouth twitch upward, though never really formed a full smirk. "I did far more than that."

"What do you mean?"

"You once asked how I knew to go after the girl's father. Recall?"

"I was there."

"Yes, you were," he agreed. "You did well in the last phase. You've earned the right to know who I really am."

Milash frowned. "Um, you're Zayel. You were some how connected to the Source."

"What I tell you cannot leave this room."

"I'm confused."

"I'll be more precise. You tell anyone, and I will make sure to make the father's death look pleasant in comparison to what I'll do to you."

"Not what I meant...but okay."

"I was a young demon then. Just a boy when Cole Turner was Source, but I watched him carefully, learned everything I could from him. Even after he was vanquished and returned from the wasteland, I kept a steady eye on him. I learned from his strategies, his brilliant mind."

Milash flopped back against the headboard. "I know all this already."

"Keep silent before I lose my patience."

"Sorry."

Zayel leaned back on one arm, smiling in satisfaction as he recalled his own brilliance. "He was the only demon that ever got the best of the Charmed Ones. The only one smart enough to undo them. I saw how. I knew if given the power, I could be just as great. Then one day, fate decided to throw me the line I needed– a whitelighter from the future."

"I _hate_ whitelighters," Milash cut in. "I touched one once. The residue was stuck on my hand for days. Disgusting."

Zayel threw out his hand telekinetically slamming the other demon's head against the wall. "Would you shut up."

Mishal rubbed the back of his head, pouting pitifully. "That hurt."

"Now, as I was saying, a whitelighter from the future arrived. Intrigued, I did research. Do you know why he was here?"

The younger demon shrugged.

"He was here to save his big brother from turning evil. His big brother who just happens to be none other than Wyatt Halliwell."

Mishal raised his hand.

Zayel rolled his currently green eyes. "Yes?"

"He's not evil, Zayel."

"I know that you idiot."

"Then why'd you bring it up?"

Jade eyes flashed dangerously.

Mishal shrunk back against the headboard.

"As I was saying," the other demon went on, "Wyatt Halliwell was apparently evil in one timeline, and little brother managed to come back in time to change all that. So, I decided that two can play at that game. That's why I went to the future to see what happens, so I can change it."

"So what happens?"

"Our nearly total destruction."

"Oh," Mishal replied. "That sucks. Does this mean I can kill the witch now?"

Zayel put his head in his hands. "I _hate_ children."

"Zayel?"

The older demon looked up again. "No. Absolutely not. She's vital to destroying them."

"How?"

Zayel glanced down at his fingernails before moving off the bed toward the round table in the middle of the room, which harbored his supplies: a cauldron, rabbits' teeth, fairy wings, mandrake root, a frog's heart and blood from a cat killed in a cemetery on the full moon. He tossed each ingredient into the pot, chanting under his breath in latin.

"What are you doing?"

Zayel opened one eye to glare at the other demon. "Starting phase two."

When he was done adding the last ingredient he glanced at his nails. Dried blood covered them. He smirked, held his hand out over the pot and watched as the bloodied nails slowly slid off of his fingers, falling into the bubbling brew.

New nails immediately started growing back over the angry wounds on the ends of his fingers.

Mishal made a face at the sight. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"It's worth it," was the reply. Zayel turned around after the last line of latin had been murmured. "It's done. She's ours now."

"Who?"

"The mother of the one that destroys us all."

000

Chris lightly knocked on the door to his room, shifting nervously from foot to foot as he waited for the door to open. He heard shuffling on the other side and his heart started to hammer against his rib cage. Then, the door swung open and he found Casey frowning up at him in puzzlement.

"Hey, can I come in?"

"I need your help."

"What? What happened?"

Casey hugged herself glancing around the room anxiously. "The ninjas...they keep staring at me."

"Uh...come again?"

The young woman pulled him into the room, quickly closing the door behind them. She kept her back to it as her brown eyes darted to the four corners of the room. They finally landed on her friend's face. With complete seriousness, she answered, "Chipmunks. Tiny chipmunks with swords. You've got to be careful, Chris. They'll find out our secret."

Chris moved to her side, gently guiding her to the bed, softly pushing her to sit down. "Sweetie, have you been drinking?"

"No, why?"

The young man raised his brows. "Okay then."

Lifting a hand to her brow he frowned at the heat. "Oh my god. Case, you're burning up."

"You think I'm pretty?"

Chris shook his head, not sure where that had come from. He ignored it. "You need to lie down. I'm going to get Wyatt, and he'll heal you."

"I don't want him," Casey pouted. "I want you."

The young man smiled, his green eyes glowing tenderly. "I'll be right back."

She grabbed hold of his arm tightly, clinging to him like a small child. Tears fell down her steamy hot face, which was radiating even through his shirt. "Don't go. Don't leave me. They'll get me. Don't let them get me."

"Shhh." Chris wrapped his arms around her, trying to sound calm even though he was terrified. He had no idea what had happened to her, but something told him it had to do with magic. Someone didn't get a fever this high this fast without some sort of magical intervention.

"I love you."

"I love you too," Chris automatically replied. He glanced toward the door. "Wyatt. Wyatt get in here, pronto."

Casey jumped away from him, climbing backward away from him while furiously batting at her arms and chest. "Nonononononono. Get them off. Get them off."

Chris crawled over to her on the bed, getting to his knees and grabbing her hands. "Hey, look at me. Casey, look at me. There's nothing on you. I swear."

"Slugs. All over. Crawly, slimy...get them oooooff," she begged, tears racing off her cheeks. "They burn. My skin is on fire. Please, Chris, help me."

Not knowing what else to do, Chris started swiping at her arms and pretending to pluck things out from her hair. After she seemed a little more calm, he smiled, "See. All gone."

She fell to her knees and reached up to wrap her arms around his neck.

"Chris?"

Chris turned around to find his brother and girlfriend standing in the door looking equally confused. He was about to open his mouth to explain when Casey started shaking violently in his arms, her eyes rolling up backward as she fell to the bed, spasms wracking her body.

Wyatt ran over to her side, helping Chris hold her as still as possible, so she didn't hurt herself. When the tremors ended, the Twice Blessed looked up into Chris' face. "What happened to her?"

"Can you heal her?"

Wyatt raised his hands over her now still form. After several minutes, he shook his head. "Nothing. It's not physical."

"Well, what the hell are we going to do, Wyatt?"

Casey's eyes fluttered open. "Chris?"

"I'm here."

"I just thought you should know..."

Chris leaned in closer.

"Wyatt and you kiss the same."

After this was said, she passed out.

Molly moved closer, her eyes searching her boyfriend's. "What are we going to do?"

"The only thing we can do," Wyatt answered for him. "We call in the cavalry and hope to god there's something we can do to help her."

Chris took Casey's hand. "There has to be..."

tbc. . .


	13. Drive Me Crazy

Wasn't happy with the title, but I hope this one is better :)

CHAPTER 13

Drive Me Crazy

Milash threw a piece of popcorn into the air and swivelled his head, mouth agape to catch it. Instead, the white puff of food smacked him on the nose, bounced and landed on the bed next to him. His eyes slid over to make sure Zayel wasn't looking, then quickly grabbed the piece and tossed it into his mouth. 

"I saw that."

The younger demon slouched down in the bed. He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted petulantly.

Zayel turned bulging red eyes toward his comrade, the purple veins all over his dark skin throbbing like the second hand of a watch. Tick. Tick. Throb. Throb.

"Ick," Milash muttered, practically seeing the blood pumping through the other demon's circulatory system. "You look like you've used too many steroids."

The leader rolled his eyes before closing them and shifting back into Chris Halliwell once more. He opened his now jade eyes. "Better?"

"Hmm...disgusting vein-riddled-bulging eyed freak or a whitelighter?" Milash shrugged, tossing up another kernel. This one ricocheted off his chin. He smoothly picked it up and plopped it onto his tongue. He shrugged, "It's a toss up."

"I don't know why I keep you around."

"Sure you do," Milash answered. "You said I have a power you need."

"I do. If only it were one I could simply kill you and steal..."

Milashsmirked, "Buuuut it's nooooot."

"One could always try..."

"But," the minion pointed out, "_one_ won't. Because _one_ has been waiting to put this plan into motion for a really long time, and if you kill me, you might not find someone else with my unique talent before it's too late. Then, we're all dead, which kinda sucks. Well, except for me since I'm already dead...mostly."

Zayel let out a breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"I like this meat suit, though," Milash continued to babble. "Demons make much better hosts. Don't wear out as fast. Plus, he was kind of a handsome shape-shifter. Not that it matters I guess because he was a shape-shifter, so even if he looked like you, he could change into a handsome person. Just seems more honest to genuinely be good looking instead of cheating and changing. You know?"

"I will not kill my minion. I will not kill my minion..."

"You haven't let me kill anything for a long time. I'm getting hungry. Popcorn is fun to munch, but it isn't really food anymore. I should warn you, I get grumpy when I'm hungry."

Zayel suddenly paused, his brow furrowing as possibility rang his mental doorbell. His lips slowly curled upward. "You might earn your keep in more ways than one."

"Not if I die of hunger."

"You do as I say, and I'll let you have an all you can eat buffet of witches."

"Okay, what do I have to do now?"

"We need to tear apart the Halliwells." He rose from his chair gesturing with his hands. "I knew the key all along. It was all connected to Cole's plans...their union is what makes them unbeatable. They'll determine what happened to the girl and then come after us. I thought we could handle them before, but now, I have a foolproof plan. Separation and destruction."

"Huh?"

Zayel spoke more slowly as he turned to face the dark haired youth on the bed. "A bundle of twigs is impossible to break because together they are too strong. One twig is child's play to snap."

"I thought we were talking about the Halliwells?"

"We are."

"No, you're talking about twigs." He paused. "Oh, I get it."

"Miracles do happen it seems."

"You're gonna turn them into twigs," Milash proudly surmised.

Zayel flicked out a hand banging the other demon's head against the backboard.

Milash rubbed the already sore spot with his hand. "Why do you keep _doing that_?"

"I'm hoping to reverse the obvious brain damage."

"I thought you said I was no-mind," the underling pointed out. He smiled widely. "I'm growing on you."

Zayel put his hand to his forehead. "There are days when destroying good and taking over the world just don't seem quite worth it..."

"Hey, Z, can I call you Z?"

"No, you may cert– "

"– Okay thanks," Milash rushed on, "so, what do I have to do?"

Ignoring the throbbing pain in his left temple, Zayel replied, "The Charmed Ones are going to summon you as you're the only lead they have. When they do, this is what I want you to do..."

0000

When Chris was twelve years old, he had gotten terribly ill with mono. He'd missed almost two straight weeks of school. He was achy all over, had no appetite and slept twenty out of twenty four hours. He was so sick he would fall asleep in the middle of a sentence and wake up a few hours later and finish the same sentence. 

Casey had brought his homework to him everyday, and when he was awake, she would explain the lessons to him, trying to help him keep up with his classes. When he was too tired or weak to focus, she would lay with him and tell him stories about the goings on of the school or just keep him company. More often than not, sometime during the course of the visit, she would force feed him soup or scrambled eggs with toast.

Now, she was deathly sick, and it was his turn to sit by her bedside. Only he really didn't know if he had the strength to watch as she faded a little more every moment that went by. She was pallid and clammy to the touch, and didn't seem capable of staying conscious more than five or ten minutes at a time anymore. Her brown eyes were glossy, the lids constantly drifting down over them as she struggled to stay awake.

She was dying.

She was dying, and so far, not one single person in his family had come up with a reason why, or a way to stop it.

Chris swallowed the lump of fear in his throat, squeezing his friend's hand gently as he stared at her too still face. Her coral, heart shaped lips were parted just slightly, and he watched them tremor as her breath hitched.

A hand fell on his shoulder.

The young witchlighter looked up to see sympathetic hazel eyes staring down at him. Molly offered a tight smile of comfort, which didn't quite serve its purpose. He loved her for trying, though.

He reached up with his free hand and laid it over hers, relishing the warmth of her hand and trying to imagine her strength seeping through it and into him. When that didn't work, the young man simply closed his eyes and enjoyed the fact he wasn't alone in this helpless feeling he was being smothered in.

"The fever is down slightly," Leo softly informed his son, taking the cloth off Casey's forehead and moving it back into the warm bowl of water. He pulled the red cloth back out, squeezed out the excess moisture and then returned it to the steamy forehead.

"It won't stay that way, though," Chris surmised. "It's magic doing this. Only magic can fix it. Right?"

The former doctor met his son's eyes with great reluctance. "There's only so much I can do. It's like she has some sort of infection, and anything I do to fight the fever or any of the other symptoms is just going to be a band-aid until we can figure out the root of the problem."

"Which we will," his aunt Phoebe promised as she picked up a picture frame holding an image of Chris and Casey when they were young. She closed her eyes trying to get a premonition off the object. A minute passed. She opened her eyes. "Can I just say how much my power still sucks?"

Wyatt, leaning against the doorframe, responded, "You're trying to force it. Doesn't work when we do that."

"I know, I know," Phoebe whined. "Still, it would be nice if the powers that be could cut us some slack just this one time."

Chris shot a look to his sibling. "You're all powerful. Can't you do something?"

The Twice Blessed flinched at the remark. He stood to his full height, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive manner as he regarded his sibling with a dark blue stare. "You think I haven't tried? That I would just be standing here if I hadn't already done everything I could think of? My premonitions are weak on a good day. The way I feel right now? No way in hell I'm getting anything. But thanks for making me feel even worse about the fact being all powerful doesn't really help me protect the people I love."

"I didn't mean it like that. . ."

Wyatt turned his gaze away from his brother, turning to look on the woman he'd made love to a few hours ago. His tongue suddenly felt too thick to fit in his mouth. His lungs constricted in his chest, a painful spasm shooting through him. He could vanquish upper level demons with the blink of an eye, but getting one premonition to save the woman he loved? Too much for the mighty Twice Blessed to handle.

Paige and Piper pushed past their respective son and nephew to get into the room. Piper was holding a slip of paper while Paige was toting the Book of Shadows under one arm. The Eldest sister moved over to Phoebe, holding out the spell, while Paige moved toward Chris with the book.

"Pheebs," Piper started, "I was thinking if we used the Power of Three spell along with Awakening spell while Paige tried to heal her, it might just snap Casey out of it. What do you think?"

"Chris, is this the demon from down in the sewer?" Paige asked, handing him the book.

"I think it's a really risky idea, Piper. Do you remember what the spell did to you? Granted we aren't as inexperienced as we were then, but messing with the mind has never really gone too well for us in the past."

"No, he was human looking."

"But we have to try something."

"Did he have _any_ markings?"

"I know, but I just don't think mixing our magic with dark magic is the answer. Mixing magic is too complicated especially when we don't know what kind of magic we're up against."

Chris shook his head. "No. Nothing. He was about Wyatt's size. Black hair. Blue eyes. No scars or tattoos. I didn't really get a show of his powers since he disappeared pretty quick after I showed up."

"Chris?" Casey murmured softly, her eyes slowly stretching open. She smiled softly at him, a drunken slackness in her body. "Hey, you."

The young man's face broke out into a faux smile, trying not to scare the confused woman. "Hey back."

"I'm sorry I slept with Wyatt."

Leo's brows shot up.

Piper turned to glare at her eldest son, hands on hips.

Paige smirked, giving a little nod of approval to the same young man. "Nice."

"Paige," Phoebe admonished quietly. "She and Chris were...well, _you_ know."

Wyatt buried his face in one hand, trying desperately to pretend he didn't feel almost every eye in the room boring holes into his head.

"Let's not talk about that right now," Chris advised.

Casey shook her head furtively. "No, no. I didn't want to. I didn't. I thought I did and then I did _not_ and then it all went crazy and everything just went so wrong. You hate me, but I love you."

Wyatt, taking a deep breath, ripped his gaze away from her soft, innocent and painstakingly honest face. Without a word, he slipped from the room.

Molly, taking notice, quietly excused herself and went after him.

"I don't hate you. I was just hurt, but I'm okay now. Promise. I just want you to get better."

"I really love you."

Chris offered a genuine smile as he squeezed her hand again. "I really love you too."

The young woman rolled her eyes and whined, "You don't get it."

Chris looked up to his father, who gave a shrug.

"Butter is better," the girl suddenly announced. "I was wrong. Butter is better. Better butter. Rrrrrrrr. Heee."

Paige lifted her brows. "Oookay then."

The young woman's eyes suddenly went wide as Leo started to bring the rag down over her forehead again. She batted it away with her hands, screaming, her feet thrashing out and kicking the bowl of water, which Piper froze before it hit the ground.

Chris grabbed her arms, holding her still. "Casey, what is it? Talk to me. What's wrong?"

"Can't you see it? Why are you letting him put that snake on me? I hate snakes. _Dios mio. No, por favor. Venenoso._ _Maligno_. Get it away from me."

Piper shrugged, "Okay."

Flicking out her wrists, the eldest Charmed One watched as she successfully disintegrated the old wash cloth, blowing scraps through the air.

Casey moved close to Chris, burying her face in his chest and clutching him.

He rubbed circles onto her back as he realized her condition was only getting worse. He couldn't stand to see her like this, so scared and confused and weak. It wasn't like her. The fact it wasn't like her terrified him. He put one hand to support her head as he softly uttered, "Let she who awakens from her sleep, return once more to slumber deep."

The young woman fell limp in his arms. He gently laid her back down on the bed. He tenderly pushed the hair from her face as he explained to the adults, "I couldn't let her suffer like that. Plus, I figure it'll be easier to take care of her if she's not fighting it."

Leo offered his son a tight lipped smile. "You did the right thing, Chris."

The former Elder rose from his place on the bed. "I'll go get more supplies."

"Ooh, how about this one?" Paige held up the book to Chris.

_Vetala. A vampire-like spirit that inhabits corpses, which no longer decay upon possession. They may leave the body at will and take on another. Time and space no longer affect them as they are spirits. The Vetala are best known for driving people mad, killing children and causing miscarriages. To vanquish, perform their funeral rites. _

"There's no picture." 

"Yeah, but did you _read_ the bit about driving people crazy?"

"So?"

"So this is probably our guy."

"Probably? Probably isn't good enough, Aunt Paige."

"Well, excuse me but do you have another lead?"

Piper whistled. "People. Can we focus, please? Phoebe, keep trying with the premonitions. Chris, I think it would be best for you to take a breather, get away for a little bit."

"I'm not leaving her side."

"It wasn't a request, Christopher."

"But, Mom– "

"– No. You are way too close to this. You aren't thinking clearly, so you can't help us investigate. Plus, she's resting peacefully, so she won't notice if you slip away for a few minutes, just grab a bite to eat and recharge."

Leo came back in with a new bowl and cloth.

Chris clenched his jaw as he stared down his mother.

The father and husband turned to his sister-in-laws. "Battle of wills?"

"Yup." "Definitely."

"Oh. Okay."

"Your emotions are probably clouding Phoebe's ability, and if we have a hope of figuring out what happened and solving it we need a little psychic assistance," Piper tried.

Chris let out a breath. "Fine. But, I'm not going to be gone for long."

"That's fine."

The young man bent down and bestowed a light kiss on his friend's burning forehead. He whispered softly, "Just hang on, Case."

Shooting one more glare at his mother, the witchlighter marched out of the room, heading straight for Wyatt's. He needed to talk to his brother. In fact, he just needed his brother. Period.

"Wyatt, you aren't God," Molly's voice floated through the doorway. "You aren't omniscient. You couldn't have known anything was wrong, and just because you can't get a premonition doesn't mean you're failing her. She would never want you to feel that way."

Chris lightly knocked on the door trimming. With a weak half smile he asked, "Is this a bad time?"

"Anything?"

"Not yet."

Molly glanced from one brother to the other. Tension still riddled the air. It needed to be swept out and fast. She smiled at both of them. "You know, I think I'm going to go get some...well, something."

She slid out of the door, gently pushing Chris further into the room while she exited.

Chris shoved his hands in his pockets while he stared at his shiny white sneakers.

The older brother ran a hand through his neat blonde hair while nervously looking anywhere but at his brother. After a moment, knowing if he didn't make the first move it wouldn't get made, he smiled unsurely and asked, "Think it's true?"

"Do I think what's true?"

Wyatt gestured vaguely. "You know, the whole...kissing thing."

"Are you seriously asking me this? _Now_, of all times?"

"It's better than focusing on the alternative."

Chris nodded, sucking his lips in. "Yeah. I guess."

"It kind of makes sense," the Twice Blessed went on, trying to stay light. "I did teach you about kissing."

"Oh God," the brunet groaned. "That was the most horrifying experience of my life. First, you made me read _Cosmo Millennium_, then you made me practice taking a bra off a pillow one handed."

"Well, I bet it's come in pretty handy." He paused to chuckle. "Handy. Get it?"

Chris rolled his eyes, chuckling softly. "That was lame even for you."

"I know, but it made you laugh a little."

"I needed it."

"I know."

"Chris, Wyatt," Piper's voice called.

The boys sobered up quickly, both running out of the room and down the hall. They paused inside the door to Chris' room, watching with avid attention as Phoebe received a premonition while holding Casey's hand.

_A flash of an image– Chris moved toward Casey with deliberate intent, wrapping his arms around her, pressing her body firmly against his own while capturing her lips with his. At the same time, he dug his nails into her, drawing blood. _

Casey shoved him back. "What the hell is the matter with you? What about Molly? The woman you claim to love?" At the same time, she reached behind her to her neck, feeling the warm sticky spot where he'd clawed her. She pulled her hand back and saw the smudge of red.

"Good night," Chris softly whispered as she fell forward into his arms completely unconscious.

The young man grinned viciously while blinking a second set of eyelids. "Injection complete."

Another flash– Chris sitting with a black haired teenager in a blank, nondescript apartment. Chris' nails fell from his finger tips into a black cauldron as he explained, "She's ours now."

"Who?"

"The mother of the one that destroys us all."

Flash– Casey sitting in the conservatory of the manor, a newborn baby in her arms, swaddled in a blue fleece blanket with the triquetra symbol on it. The young woman looked up smiling widely. "Lucky, look. Daddy's home."

Phoebe's eyes snapped open, and she immediately reached out for the bed to steady herself. "Whoa." 

"Aunt Phoebe?" Chris asked.

"Hex. Major hex," she answered. "And..."

Piper gestured for her to continue, "And?"

Phoebe looked hesitant, cringing at the thought of what her sister might say or blow up when she found out. "I think, and I could be wrong, but I think Casey is the mother of a seriously special child in the near future because in my premonition the demon said something about having the mother of the one who destroys them all, and then it flashed to her sitting in the conservatory holding a newborn. She didn't look any differently than she does now, Piper."

Piper's eyes immediately sought out her eldest son's.

Wyatt's mouth fell open, his eyes fading off into a stare-y nothingness. He swallowed hard, his breathing becoming instantly faster and ragged.

"Wy?" Chris asked, concerned by his sibling's sudden comatose-like state.

Without a word, the older boy orbed from the room. Chris followed his orb trail and wound up standing behind the blond as he bent over a toilet, vomiting. The Twice Blessed's back shuddered as he heaved and coughed.

The younger teen moved to sit on the edge of the tub, patting the other boy's back. "It's okay. Just calm down."

Wyatt grabbed a handful of toilet paper and wiped his mouth before tossing it into the toilet and flushing it down along with his lunch. He leaned back against the shower door, elbows on his knees as he pressed his hands into his forehead.

"Wyatt?" Chris tried again.

"I didn't..." The older brother stopped shaking his head in anger and frustration. He took a shuddered breath. "I didn't...I mean it all happened really fast, and I didn't think...I just..."

"What are you talking about? I'm totally lost here. Is this about Phoebe's premonition? About Case? I mean, you're always careful, and one time doesn't usually a baby make, so chill out."

Wyatt shot a panicked look to his brother. "One time without a condom is all it takes."

In that moment, Chris' view of the world shifted forever, and as he stared at his brother, sitting on the tiles of their bathroom floor with a helplessness the younger brother had never seen before, the brunet knew without a doubt nothing in their lives would ever go back to the way it was before.

tbc. . .


	14. Fools Rush In

CHAPTER 14

Fools Rush In

Molly, a plate with two ham and cheese sandwiches in hand, made her way up the stairs toward the boys' bedrooms her free hand sliding up the rail. Ever since almost falling down them, the stairs at the manor made her a little nervous. However, only holding the paper plate in one hand was proving to be difficult, the plate bending and the sandwiches threatening to spill onto the floor. In the end, she faced her nerves and moved to support the flimsy faux dish with both hands. 

The effort went completely wasted when the door to Chris' bedroom completely shattered. Wood splinters and chunks went flying through the air just in front of the young woman, and in instinct she dropped to the floor, arms covering her head. The plate with the sandwiches slipped to the floor, the guts of the food splattering all over the carpet.

"Damn it," Piper's voice was heard from within.

"Piper, you need to calm down right now. Someone could get hurt." Leo's normally calm tone ordered with uncharacteristic abrasiveness.

Phoebe poked her head out into the hall, grimacing as she spotted Molly lying face first on the floor. The empath hurried over to the future whitelighter's side, helping the youth to her feet. She smiled unsurely. "Hi, there. You okay? No broken bones or impaled organs or anything?"

"Not that I'm aware of."

"Good. That's very, very good."

"What's going on? Did the door do something to _deserve_ getting blown to bits? Like harboring a shape-shifter?"

"No, no don't be silly," the Charmed One waved her off. "We haven't had the furniture attack us in years." She began to fidget as her smile widened to plasticity. "Piper's just having some, uh, minor issues right now."

"Issues? What type of issues?"

Paige's voice rose out, "Hands down. Demons destroy enough of your house without you adding to the damages. Just calm down, Lady. This is not the end of the world."

This seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

"He's only nineteen, Paige. _Nineteen_. He's barely started college. He can't afford this. He's not ready. Neither of them are ready, and I will be damned if I'm going to be all honkey-dorey with my son throwing his life away. He has so much _potential_. So many gifts. Like ruling the entire freaking magical community. How can he do that and this? Huh? Answer me that one."

"With a lot of support from his family," Leo answered soothingly.

"Don't you use that tone with me, Leo Wyatt. Not today."

"What tone?"

Molly and Phoebe poked their heads into the room to find Piper in between Paige and Leo looking to be in full on TNT mode. Both the empath and the mortal noticed with trepidation the fact Paige repeatedly was pushing her older sister's hands back down to her sides just in case.

"The whitelighter, pacifying, calm, cool and relaxed tone. The one that says you aren't freaking out, and I'm overreacting. I'm not overreacting. My teenage son has thrown away his future, and there is absolutely not enough reacting to be done, got it?"

Leo ducked as the clock hanging on the wall by his head exploded. He looked up at his wife. "Could you please at least try to calm down? You know how your powers get when you're like this."

"What are they talking about?" the teenager whispered to her comrade in the doorway.

Phoebe pressed her lips together knowing she really shouldn't say anything about it until they were sure it was a fact, but keeping quiet had never been her strong suit. After an internal battle which lasted only about a minute, the Charmed One caved. "Wyatt _might_ have gotten Casey pregnant."

"What?"

Piper, noticing Molly standing in the doorway, set her gaze on the raven haired girl. "Tell me you and my youngest son aren't stupid enough to do what those two did."

"No, Maam," she answered with pure terror. "Chris and I don't do...uh, that."

"Good," the mother responded. "Because you are all way the hell too young to be parents, and I swear to God when I get my hands on my oldest son..."

"Piper," Paige tried. "Wyatt's a good boy. He and Casey clearly made a mistake, but losing it isn't going to fix the situation."

Phoebe nodded, folding her arms over her chest. "She's right you know. Wyatt is probably even more freaked out and terrified about all this than you are. It's his life, and he's not stupid. He knows what this means for him. Besides, Casey is really sick, and if we don't undo this hex and fast, there won't be a baby to worry about."

"You're right." Piper relented, taking a deep breath. "You're right. Okay, let's move people. Phoebe, go get Chris and have him take you down to those sewers, see if you can't find something of this demons we can use to find or summon it. Maybe get a premonition from the site."

"I'm on it."

"Paige, start on an all purpose vanquishing potion– make it strong."

"Gotcha."

Leo looked up from the place he'd taken by his patient's side. "What about the hex?"

"I'm on it," Piper answered. "We have the ingredients. It shouldn't take long to whip up."

"Good, because I'm not sure we have much time."

000

Tori Butler lived three doors down the street from the Halliwells when Wyatt and Chris were growing up. As one of the only two girls on the block, Tori was constantly nagging Casey to hang out with her, even though the two girls had harbored absolutely nothing in common. Tori wanted to be Cinderella when she grew up. Casey wanted to be a pirate wench. Or ruler of the universe. Whichever came first.

For whatever reason, Chris' mind had started thinking about those two when they were kids. In specific, an event kept popping into his mind. It had been so long ago, but the young man kept playing it over in his thoughts as he sat on the edge of the tub focusing on nothing while his sibling stared at him, obviously waiting for some sort of response.

He'd been nine. Casey and Tori were both still eight then. It had been a typical summer afternoon that had brought about this most unusual remembrance...

_Tori and Casey were out in the Alvarez's yard right next door to Halliwell Manor. The younger of the two girls, Tori, was primping a blonde baby doll, and talking about how they should play house because it would be sooo much fun. Meanwhile, Casey appeared to only be half listening, instead focusing on whatever new book she was reading that day. _

Chris, from his place shooting hoops in his driveway, could hear the proposal and knew his friend well enough to realize the game of house combined with the other witch's overly mature imagination was bound to get interesting. Curiosity peaked by what sort of crazy soap opera storyline Casey might invent for the game, he put down the ball and sat on it, watching the crazy girls talk over the background stories.

"And this is my baby, Annabelle, and the daddy is Mark Carson. He's rich and goes out of town with his secretary."

_"Why?" Casey questioned from her place on the steps of the porch. She didn't bother looking up from her novel. _

"Because that's what my dad does," Tori explained. "Mom says he's always out of town with that secretary of his. She says he's incory-age-able."

"Incorrigible?"

"Yeah." Tori scrunched up her nose. "What's that mean?"

"Dunno. It's not good though. I think it's sort of when people do stuff they're not supposed to do a lot."

"Oh." Tori turned her attention fully on her forced friend. "What about you? Who are you?"

"Huh?"

"For the game?"

"Can't I be me?"

"No, it's supposed to be make-believe. Pick something to do and a new name and stuff."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Okay, I'm a super poor writer, who lived on the streets for a little bit, and my name is . . .Isabel. My mother was a mean drunk growing up and my father works two jobs to pay bills. I ran away from home when I was sixteen, and got married to a boy I met in a bar who ended up being a millionaire who takes me away from my bad past."

"Whoa, how'd you come up with all that?"

"I read a lot."

"Oh. And who's your husband?"

"Uh..." the older girl paused to think before she spotted her best friend watching them from the driveway. "Chris."

Chris' eyes went wide, and he shook his head. It was already too late though. His friend was running across the yard and before he could run for cover, she had his arm and was dragging him over into a very scary place he liked to call, 'Girl World.'

"Hi, Chris," Tori shyly greeted. "I'm glad you decided to play with us."

"I didn't," he muttered, shooting a glare at his friend, who merely wrapped her arms around him and smiled up at him with her big brown eyes. He rolled his jade in response while sighing.

"So, I'm a millionaire?" Chris asked. "Did I steal it all?"

"You got it from a dead uncle."

"That is way less cool," her friend informed her. "If I'm gonna play this stupid game, I want to be a bad guy. Maybe I killed for it."

Casey pondered this for a moment. "Okay. You killed your uncle for it. Now, I don't know, and our marriage is in trouble because you're a liar."

"Why does our marriage have to go wrong?"

"Because you're a murderer."

"So? I could still be a good husband."

"Nu-uh."

"Yu-huh," Chris retaliated. "I would be too. Just like my dad is to my mom."

"But this is make-believe, and you wanted to be a bad guy."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Fine. I got it from an uncle. Geek."

"Freak."

"So, you guys need to have a baby," Tori interrupted.

Casey's face immediately contorted into an awful figure. "Eeew. No way."

"Why not?"

The boy seconded the question, taking the response as a personal affront to him.

"Because," the other girl responded, "babies are smelly and loud and boring, and I don't want one. I'm gonna live with my dog and write best sellers. I'm not having babies. Not ever."

Not ever. Straight out of the proverbial horse's mouth. Granted she'd been eight at the time, but as far as Chris knew, she didn't have any strong pull to be a mother these days either. For as long as he'd known her, which basically amounted to nearly her whole life, Casey had always been more concerned with her dreams as an aspiring writer. She hadn't really focused on husbands and children in her future. The only thing she repeatedly said she wanted to keep her warm at night was a dog. 

"Chris, Man, please say something."

The younger boy was snapped out of his thoughts by Wyatt's quiet plea. He blinked to clear the past from his eyes. When the scene of before was gone from his vision, he saw his brother's face more clearly than ever before. The tear trails cut off half-way down his cheeks, obviously having been wiped away in shame. His eyes, normally bright blue like happiness itself were dull and cut with an edge of fear so sharp it cut into Chris' chest, which tightened instinctually, his ribs feeling like they were being pounded out of his chest by his heart.

"I..." the brunet ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to say, Wy."

The Twice Blessed squeezed his eyes shut, nodding as he licked his lips and tried to stop himself from becoming overwhelmed again.

Chris leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Shaking his head he tried to sort out his thoughts aloud. "I don't know how I feel about this. It's just so...punch you in the face unexpected, you know?"

Wyatt opened his eyes to shoot his sibling a look.

"Stupid question," the younger brother admitted. "Of course, you know. I just meant I'm not sure I can help you feel any better about it just yet. I wish I could, but..."

"You're pissed at me."

"No...not exactly. It's complicated. You're my brother, Wyatt. Part of me wants to tell you everything is going to be okay, and we'll figure this out. But another part of me wants to lay you out for knocking up my best friend, and potentially destroying both your futures with one foul swoop."

"Thanks."

Chris let out a breath. "I'm just being honest here. But, here's something: you don't know for sure she's pregnant yet."

"Phoebe's premonition showed her not looking any different, and I just happened to have recently slept with her without protection. How clearer could the powers that be get?"

"Just hear me out. Casey ages really well. People a lot of times mistake her for a lot younger than she is. There's a chance this happens in a couple of years, and she just hasn't changed enough for Aunt Phoebe to notice it in the few seconds she saw in her vision."

Wyatt raised his eyes back up from the tiled floor. "You don't really believe that do you?"

The younger witchlighter considered for only a second before replying, "No. But, I'm the cynic of the family. Doesn't mean it couldn't be true."

"Chris..." the older boy swallowed, his eyes misting again, "I'm scared."

Chris slipped from the edge of the tub to join his sibling on the floor. He put one hand on the other's shoulder and offered a thin lined smile. He wasn't good at this sort of thing. . .comforting others. It didn't come naturally for him like it did with other members of his family. The only people he'd ever instinctually soothed were Casey and Molly. Dealing with Wyatt was a new experience all together. Wyatt was the strong one. The calm and rational older brother who always had the answers to life's problems. It had always been the Twice Blessed calming his brother. Now, it was little brother's turn to repay the debt, and he had no idea how. Saving his sibling from vicious demons was no big deal, but saving him from his emotional ones? Not his strong suite.

The brunet tried to think of what their father would say if he were here.

"You shouldn't be," he began. "You're a really good guy, Wyatt. Despite the occasional arrogant mood and over-bearing protective nature, you've always been an awesome brother. You might not realize this, but when we were kids, I followed you around because I wanted to be just like you. You were my big brother, my hero. I still look up to you, Wy, and I know even if you don't, you'll be a really awesome Dad too."

Wyatt's face lit up through the remaining trepidation. "You mean that, Chris?"

"No, I'm lying," Chris drawled.

The Twice Blessed let a chuckle escape. "Okay, stupid question. I just never knew you felt that way. It means a lot to me."

"Don't turn this into a girlie moment, Wyatt. Just accept the compliment, and let's move on."

Wyatt nodded, smiling anyway. He knew his brother well enough to know how uncomfortable this type of situation made him feel. Chris Halliwell didn't do sappy emotional confessions unless absolutely necessary. Otherwise, it was anger and sarcasm all the way. Just his brother's saying the words meant the world to the older teen.

A soft knock interrupted the two.

Chris rose from his place on the floor to answer it.

Phoebe was standing on the other side, a soft gaze slipping to her oldest nephew. She opened her mouth to offer comfort, but Chris guided her gently out of the doorway and into the hall. He shut the door behind them.

"He doesn't need a bunch of you adults feeling sorry for him," Chris explained. "In fact, the only person I recommend seeing him for a while would be Dad. Maybe, Aunt Paige since she's generally pretty light and go with the flow."

"I can be light and flowy."

Chris quirked a brow at her, folding his arms over his chest.

"Okay, maybe you're right." She went on, "Anyway, the reason I knocked in the first place is I need you to orb me down to the sewers where Casey was being held to see if I can get a premonition from there. Until we find something, we won't be able to summon the jerk responsible."

"What about Casey?"

"She'll be fine. Piper's in the kitchen brewing a cure as we speak."

Chris looked doubtful. "Promise?"

"Chris, I swear to you: your mother knows how to make a cure for a hex. She's even done it before if it makes you feel better. Now, the best thing you can do to help her is to orb me to the sewer."

"Okay, just let me tell Molly first."

"She already knows. She decided to stay and help out while you're gone. Probably will talk to Wyatt after a bit."

"Oh. Okay, then let's go."

Just as the two disappeared from the hall amongst a swirl of blue and white lights, someone shimmered into the hallway wearing Chris' face. He glanced around the area and smirked before blinking his second set of eyelids.

"Chris, how's Wyatt doing?"

Milash turned to find a large, curvy figured young woman standing behind him. She had dark black hair in soft ringlets, and a wonderful little crease of worry in her brow, making her face look perfectly delectable.

"Chris?"

"Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."

"I noticed. Not that I can blame you. Not with everything that's going on. How are you holding up?"

"Good."

"Really?" Molly asked, obviously not buying it.

Milash noting her disbelief realized a Halliwell might be more upset over the girl's ailment. They were do-gooders after all. He decided to go with a representation of how whitelighters would probably act. So, he broke down in Emmy winning crocodile tears. The thick drops sliding down from the jade eyes and thick lashes, thundering down his cheeks.

Chris' girlfriend was immediately at his side, holding him. "Oh, my god, Chris. It's okay."

"No, no it's never going to be okay again. All is lost. Evil has done something really..." He paused trying to think of a word before settling with, "evil. Those horrible demons. They must be stopped. We must vanquish them all for the sake of all that is good and right and sacred in the world."

The young woman pulled away, frowning. "Uh. . .yeah. . .I guess so. . ." She tilted her head to the side. "Are you feeling okay?"

Wiping away the remaining tears but still sniffling now and again for affect, the imposter let his chin quiver as he shook his head. "No. How could I ever be okay again when that innocent girl is in so much trouble? I feel like such a failure."

"Chris, what happened is not your fault."

"I don't know." He hugged himself. "I just feel so upset. Could we maybe go somewhere private and really talk?"

Molly nodded. "Sure we'll go in your room."

The young woman immediately turned to go into Wyatt's room, turning around once inside to find the young man follow her in without question. She smiled. "You know, stupid me, I forgot I'm supposed to babysit my baby brother tonight. Would you mind if I went and called my mom quick and let her know I'll be late?"

"Of course," Milash answered. "Anything for a lady."

Molly nodded and moved slowly out of the room. She headed straight to the attic where Paige was busy working on the vanquishing potion. She came to a dead stop and as soon as the Charmed One lifted her head, the teenager said, "The demon that attacked Casey is in Wyatt's room. What do we do?"

Paige went over to the cupboard and grabbed a box of crystals. She smiled darkly. "We make him talk, and if he doesn't, we use one of the handy-dandy vanquishing potions I just brewed."

Meanwhile, down in Wyatt's room, Milash was plopped on the bed talking into a small crystal he'd pulled from his pocket. Inside the crystal was an image of Zayel. "Yeah, I'm in. Some fat girl went to get one of the Charmed Ones to tell on the big bad shape shifter. I still don't know how you knew they'd be able to tell it wasn't Chris, and if you wanted me to get caught how come I didn't just shimmer in as myself?"

"It had to look like your plan was to impersonate the Charmed Son, so they wouldn't be suspicious of a demon walking straight into their clutches. They can't know you wanted to be captured, or our plan will never work. Remember, they don't know I am involved, and we must keep it that way."

"How come I have to be bait?"

"We went over this already."

"Yeah, but I wasn't listening. You kind of talk a lot."

"Just shut up and stick to the plan. I'll be in touch."

Milash shrugged and shoved the crystal back in his pocket. He then flopped backward onto the bed, hands behind his head. He wondered how it was the good guys always got the softer mattresses and the nice big houses. If killing weren't so much fun, he might flip sides just for the perks. As it was, he was still one of the bad guys, and his role in beating the notorious Halliwell family would go down as a thing of legend by the time they were done.

Lucas Perry Halliwell would never reach his birthday.

tbc. . .


	15. Sad Eyes

For giving me so many amazing reviews, I was inspired to hurry up and post one of the most dramatic chappies of the story. Now, I'm just hoping you all don't kill me for it...

CHAPTER 15

Sad Eyes

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. His Aunt Paige had introduced him to the cartoon and old movies when he was quite young, maybe five or so. She had always said they were the prime example of how to be a cool super hero as long as one ignored the horrible eighties fashion. Her favorite of the fab four had been the party loving Michelangelo. Wyatt liked play by the rules Leonardo. Casey used to have a crush on brainy Donatello. Chris? Chris had always, even at a very young age felt a kinship to the hot-tempered, smart-mouthed but fiercely protective Raphael. 

Walking through the sewers for the second time in as many days, Chris couldn't help get the feeling that at any moment one of the members of the green machine would sneak up behind him and yell, "Cowabunga." Despite fighting demons and other magical creatures, the witchlighter was fairly certain if this were to actually transpire, it would seriously freak him out. Demons were one thing. Talking, walking ninja turtles from a practically ancient cartoon show? Totally different story. 

"Chris?"

The young man glanced back at his aunt, who was bent over something on the edge of the sewer duct. He tilted his head as he doubled back to reach her side. Peering over her shoulder, he caught a glance at what seemed to be a half eaten piece of pizza.

"Wow, maybe they are real. . ."

"What? Who's real?"

Chris waved her off. "Nothing. Never mind."

"So," the empath started, "there is one thing really interesting about this pizza slice."

"What's that?"

"Instead of pizza sauce it's got blood on it."

The young man pulled a face and backed away. "Eew. Seriously? That's gross even for demons."

"Yeah, but it means a human wasn't eating this, so maybe it's tied to the demon we're hunting."

Chris shrugged as he shoved his hands deep into his pockets. "Makes sense."

A thought struck him. "Wait. Aunt Paige mentioned a demon earlier...Vetala. She thought it might be the one we were dealing with because it had the ability to drive people crazy. Thing is, it also was described as a vampire-like spirit. As in blood-sucker."

"As in bloody pizza," Phoebe finished. She turned her attention back to the pizza slice. She pulled up her nose, cringing as she slowly, jerkily moved her hand to touch the crust, convincing herself it was the least disgusting part of the semi-masticated remnant. As soon as her fingers touched the dried out edge, the woman was pulled into a premonition.

_The scene was up in the Halliwell's attic. Chris seemed to be trapped within a crystal cage. Paige threw powder against the magical currents sending them shooting into the obvious Chris-imposter, who howled out in pain. Oddly enough for a demon, tears actually started to run down his cheeks, and he started mumbling things like evil, mean witch. Dirty rotten woman. _

Paige's head turned at the call of her name. She shot a dark look to the demon before exiting the room.

As soon as the youngest Charmed One was out of sight, a new demon appeared onto the scene, also looking like Chris. The second fake Charmed Son, kicked free one of the crystals, sending the gem skittering across the attic floor, effectively freeing his comrade.

"Zayel, you never said anything about it hurting," the first Chris bemoaned, hugging himself.

"Just do as I told you to do, or I swear to whatever power is listening I will show you real pain you doddering, infantile vermin.

"That's not very nice. I don't call you names. The Golden Rule is to be nice to others so they don't beat the crap out of you. Just like my Mom taught me."

"Just get to work, or you'll be the one getting a beating," the second Chris growled before disappearing.

The first Chris let out a breath. "Some demons' kids."

The demon headed out the door of the attic, moving swiftly down the stairs and into the hallway connecting all the bedrooms. He paused at the bottom landing, scrunching up his face as though thinking with quite an amount of difficulty.

After a moment, he moved toward Chris' room, pausing outside the door to peek around inside the room. No one was inside save Casey, still unconscious on the bed. The demon smirked and moved inside. With cat-like slinkiness, he slipped to her side, sidling up next to her. Sharp fangs the color of fog appeared from the roof of his mouth before he bent down and latched onto the helpless girl's throat.

Phoebe gasped as she came back to the present. Her hand flew out to her nephew, "Orb, orb orb. We've got to get the manor." 

Chris immediately took her hand and with minor effort transported them both back to the manor. It was just too late to stop tragedy from striking.

Fifteen minutes earlier...

Molly moved into Wyatt's room, trying to act as normal as possible. She smiled upon the demon pretending to be her boyfriend, even moved up next to him. "Hey, you. Feeling better?"

"Much. This is a super nice bed. They don't make beds like this all over, you know."

"I'm sure they don't." The young woman pushed her hair back nervously. She licked her lips, trying to stick to Paige's plan. "So, Chris, your aunt needs your help with the potion. She says only your skills with the beaker can make this one, so she actually sent me down here to get you. She caught me on my way to call my mom."

"Oh. Okay."

Without hesitation, Milash rose from his perch on the bed and happily trotted out of the room and up the attic stairs, tossing open the door to the attic with no fear. Zayel hadn't prepared him for what would come next, though.

"Crystals. Circle."

Before he had even reached a few feet within the chamber, he found himself completely trapped between a set of crystals. He'd never seen anything like it before. When he tried to step out of the circle, he was sent flying backwards by some sort of mega-charged electrical current. He landed hard on his rear end, which caused him to pout and rub it.

"Okay, demon," Paige started, "who the hell are you?"

"I'm not supposed to tell."

"Wrong answer."

The Charmed One tossed her fairy dust based powder into the cage, frying the demon in its confines, who screeched in pain. She took up another handful, ready for more action when Molly suddenly called for her. Lowering the dust back into the brown leather bag she was holding, the witchlighter shot a warning look to her captive before running to see what was wrong with the young girl.

Invisible eyes watched from the hallway as she ran from the attic to investigate the mysterious call for help. Zayel, his decoy having worked, moved into the attic. Upon reaching his minion's side, he made himself visible and kicked aside one of the crystals.

Meanwhile, Wyatt heard a soft knock on the door to the bathroom. He wiped the remaining moisture from his face before rising to answer it. He found Molly on the other side. He let out a breath and gestured for her to come in. He closed the door as she took a seat on the edge of the tub where Chris had been seated earlier.

"So, you come to cheer me up or lecture me?"

"Neither."

"Neither?" Wyatt questioned. "Okay, wasn't expecting that."

"We caught the demon responsible. He's upstairs. I thought you would want to know. Maybe, release some of your frustrations out on him instead of on yourself."

The Twice Blessed leaned against the sink pedestal. "As much as I would love throttling that demon. . .I don't think I could get my powers to work if my life depended on it right now. My emotions are so all over the place. I'd be worried about messing up and just blowing the entire attic to bits instead."

"Not holding up well then," Molly surmised. "I wouldn't be either in your position. And poor, Casey. She doesn't even know yet."

"I feel like I should be the one to tell her, but..."

"– Scared?"

"Out of my mind."

Molly nodded. "Fair enough. Just, she is a good friend to you first and foremost. You'll deal with it that way. . .as friends."

"Is it wrong that I hope this is all some sort of huge mis-understanding, or some sort of joke where the punch-line just hasn't been reached yet?"

"Nah. It's pretty normal I'd think." The future whitelighter tilted her head to the side, a thought striking her. "Are you guys even sure she's pregnant? Chris has always said premonitions were pretty sketchy sometimes. Phoebe's are more accurate than they were when she was first a witch, but still. . .could something have been missed? Some sort of detail she didn't catch? Did she see the father in her vision?"

Wyatt shook his head. "No. . .she didn't mention it. She would have. Still, who else's could it be? I'm the only one that's been with her, and I'm the only one stupid enough to not remember to grab a damn condom."

"Oooh, ouch. Okay, that is a little condemning."

"You're telling me."

"Any idea for a next step?"

Wyatt shook his head. "I wish. Right now, I'm basically trying to keep breathing."

"Good plan. Can I suggest another one?"

"Go for it."

Molly smiled, "Think of it another way. Stop freaking out about all the bad aspects, and start looking at the good ones."

"There are good ones?"

"Of course. For instance, this baby is going to have an amazing family that is going to love it like no other. It's Uncle alone is going to spoil it completely rotten. Plus, Chris and I will always be willing to help out. You know that."

The Twice Blessed nodded, still not entirely convinced the good could possibly out-weigh the bad.

"Best of all, you get to bring a new life into the world, Wyatt," Molly went on. "A brand new Halliwell full of innocence and love and trust. It's going to be this cute little pudge of pink with these huge eyes which are going to look up to you with complete adoration and faith. Best of all, the mother is a woman you love."

"Let's not forget the unreciprocated nature of it."

"For now. Who knows? Maybe that will change with such a strong connection binding you together. Even if it doesn't, it's still with someone who cares about you, and is going to be a good person to form a united front with, right?"

"Yeah." Wyatt gave up a tiny smile. "She'll be a really good mom, even if she doesn't want kids right now. She's always sort of been a kid magnet. They flock to her. Might be because she's so close to their height," he joked.

"That's the spirit, Wy."

Wyatt took a deep breath and ran a hand through his hair. "God, I wish I could stop thinking about all the bad stuff though. It's just so...daunting."

"I know, but you've got ten months or so to figure out a game plan."

"I'll need every second."

"Do you need me to do anything?"

The Twice Blessed smiled softly. "Could you check on her for me? Just see how she's holding up. I would it's just..."

"I know. Sure. I'd be happy to."

As Molly slipped from the bathroom, Wyatt turned to place his hands on either side of the sink, staring into his reflection in the mirror. His eyes didn't even look like eyes after awhile. They just looked like two smears of color. Dark blue, swirling like tiny whirlpools of emotional angst both surrounded by islands of red.

In other words: He looked like hell.

"What am I going to do?"

Another knock.

"Come in."

Paige threw open the door, looking worried. "Where's Molly?"

"I just sent her to check on Casey a bit ago. Why?"

"Didn't you hear her yelling?"

"Who Molly? No. She was just here a minute ago checking up on me. She was fine."

The Charmed One's face fell with recognition. "Oh crap. The demon."

The woman orbed out of the bathroom, and Wyatt was on her tail in an instant, sensing her orb trail and following it. Upon materializing in the attic, the Twice Blessed noticed one very important detail.

"Uh, wasn't a demon supposed to be up here?"

It was at this point both he and Paige heard the real Molly start to yell for help.

Fifteen minutes prior...

Piper tossed in a pinch of parsley, watching it sink into the foggy coloured liquid. She reached over to the jar on her right, grabbing a handful of Tamarisk leaves and adding them as well. Next, she took out two Lady's Slippers, pulling off the petals and tossing them onto the surface of the potion. After she'd finished this, she measured out a tablespoon of agrimony extract and poured it into the already boiling potion. 

"Damn it," Piper muttered to herself.

Leo, who was standing behind her getting fresh warm water to keep Casey's fever down, asked, "What is it?"

"I can't remember the last ingredient. It just completely slipped my mind."

"Agrimony extract?"

"Got it."

"Blessed Thistle?"

Piper raised a finger, "Ah ha. There it is."

Moving over to the cupboard, she opened the small door, shifting aside other ingredients before finding the one she was looking for. Removing it from the shelf and shutting the tiny door, she moved back over to the counter and removed the lid of the jar before finally adding one blessed thistle, which upon impact, exploded in the potion with a puff of smoke.

"Smells pretty good for a potion," Leo remarked.

"Yeah, well let's just hope it works as well as it smells."

The eldest Charmed One, the potion now complete, felt tears pricking her eyes. She'd always used cooking as a way to deal with her emotional problems. Grams had always told her to keep her hands busy in the kitchen in order to work things out. Unfortunately, now that her hands had stopped moving, her emotions, which had been blocked during the processes of making the potion were unleashed now. She pursed her lips, trying to keep control of them, reminding herself Casey needed her to stay strong. However, the harder she fought against them, the closer to the surface they got, until finally, she bent over the counter, pushing against it with her flat palms and let herself cry.

"Piper," Leo started.

The woman raised her brown eyes off the countertop and up into her husband's gentle blue-green. She offered a thin smile as she wiped away the tears. "I don't know what to do, Leo. I don't know how to make this all right."

The former Elder moved to pull the love of his life into a tight embrace. "It will all work out. You know nothing happens in this family without a reason."

"Yeah, okay, but what reason, Leo? What reason could there possibly be? They're not ready for this. I mean, do you remember what we went through trying to protect Wyatt? To keep him safe. That isn't even taking into account the basic responsibilities of raising a child. Keeping it clothed and fed and. . ."

Leo put a hand on her cheek. "Our son is the strongest magical being to have ever lived. If anyone can protect an innocent child, it's Wyatt. It will be hard, but he can do this, Piper. We'll help him do this."

The mother nodded, her tears trickling to an end. "You're right. Of course, we'll help."

"It'll be kind of nice to have a little one around the manor again," her husband continued, "a soft little baby to hold in your arms all warm and loving."

Piper smiled fondly, "It has been a long time. Seventeen years since Chris was a baby. Oh, but he was such a sweet baby. And those big green eyes and the little bitty mole on the side of his nose...my little peanut."

"See, Sweetie, this doesn't necessarily have to be all bad. We get to be grandparents at an age where we'll still be young enough to really help out and play hard with him or her."

His wife quirked a brow. "Honey, no offence, but if age had anything to do with it, you'd be completely screwed."

The man was about to offer a retort when he was cut off by a cry for help.

"Was that Molly?"

Piper hurriedly ladled the potion into one of the vials before running out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She didn't bother looking back. She knew her husband would be right behind her.

He always had and always would have her back.

Moments before. . .

With cat-like slinkiness, the AWOL demon slipped to Casey's side, sidling up next to her. Sharp fangs the color of fog appeared from the roof of his mouth before he bent down and latched onto the helpless girl's throat, the spirit inhabiting the shape-shifter feeding on the girl's major artery.

A squeak on the floorboard.

Milash raised his head to find the same dark haired girl from earlier standing in the doorway.

Molly, acting only on instinct, moved into action, throwing a nearby lamp at the demon's head, which made contact with his right arm as he brought it up to defend himself. While it didn't incapacitate him, it did draw his attention away from Casey, which was her goal.

The future whitelighter truly did yell out for help then, knowing she had to keep him away from the already failing other girl at any cost, or her boyfriend's best friend and the mother of Wyatt's child and Wyatt's child itself would both be dead.

The demon moved at inhuman speed to grasp her by the throat, cutting off her second attempt to cry for help. "I wasn't supposed to hurt you. I don't really want to since you're not a witch. No purpose in it, but I don't know what to do now, so in advance I'm kinda sorry, and I promise I won't enjoy it even a little if that helps."

Milash pulled Molly to him, connecting with her throat and sucking her life essence straight out of her. The girl for her part felt connected to the demon in that moment, could feel his every emotion, hear his every thought. Through the pain, there was a sort of comfort, which she realized he was sending to her through their momentary link. If she hadn't been in the middle of dying, she might have wondered at how a demon could even be thoughtful.

As it was, her last thought ended up being, "Please, let me have saved her at least..."

Molly's form went limp in Milash's arms. The demon let out a breath, shedding one single tear. "No good. Didn't even fill me up, and Zayel is going to be so mad I killed the wrong girl."

Orb lights were starting to form.

Milash knew he only had one way to escape. He took a piece of the broken lamp and rammed it into his heart. As the Vetala started rising out of the shape-shifter's corpse, he moved into the freshly made one.

Wyatt and Paige glanced around, waiting for an attack. Instead, they were run into by Piper who had just reached the top of the stairs, Leo in tow. Piper, hands at the ready, glanced down at the bloody corpse of the image of her youngest son. She turned away from the sight. Leo wrapped his arms around her.

By this time, Chris and Phoebe arrived. Upon seeing his girlfriend on the ground, Chris pushed past everyone else and moved to her side, lifting her head into his lap. "Molly? Molly, open your eyes, Baby. Come on, please open your eyes."

Hazel eyes flickered open.

Chris held her body close against him, breathing out a sigh of relief.

Milash tried not to throw up. In his mind all he could think was, "Whitelighter germs. _Boy_ whitelighter germs."

Zayel, invisible from sight, stood in the doorway observing. It wasn't what he had planned. Not at all. Though, through his minion's mistake, utter destruction just might be wreaked upon the Halliwells instead of simple conquest.

tbc. . .

ducks flying objects Don't hurt me...I did try to prep you all for this moment...kinda...sorta...I hope...besides, you know she's not gone forever-- hence future whitelighter :)


	16. Keep On Keepin' On

Seriously, to all my reviewers, you amaze me. This extra extra long chappie is dedicated to all of you ;)

CHAPTER 16

Keep On Keepin' On

_Golden Gate Park was alive with energy. Children laughing as they chased their ball through the grass, a couple jogging side by side and hand in hand over on the concrete sidewalk, and three dogs running around in a large circle in a game of follow the leader, barking and panting happily. _

In the middle of this joy filled chaos sat Casey in a light blue sun-dress, her hair plaited down to the middle of her back, her bangs sweeping across her face covering one of her rich brown eyes. Her coral lips were turned up in a large smile as a light flashed.

"Okay, are we done with the digi-captures now? Can we enjoy our lunch?"

The figure she was speaking to appeared.

Chris, dressed in a simple pair of khaki cargo pants and a red t-shirt, his favorite pair of shades on, plopped down next to her on the old orange blanket the young woman had brought from her house. He held out the camera to her. "Come on, it's gorgeous. I'm getting really good at the lighting and the angles. I think I might take after my Aunt Prue."

Taking a look at the display screen, the other witch felt her breath hitch. He was right. It really was more than just a regular capture. It was like he'd managed to reveal with his lense the essence of her giddy happiness. 

_"What's for lunch anyway, Madam Chef?" _

Casey was about to pull out a succulent display of down home cooking when out of no-where it began to downpour. Sheets upon sheets of cold rock-hard rain pummeled the park, soaking the two witches within mere seconds.

The young woman grabbed the basket. Chris put his camera in his pocket and snatched the blanket, holding it over their heads as they raced to the edge of the park toward his truck, which was parked on one of the side streets.

As they reached the automobile, Casey took hold of the blanket while Chris fumbled in his pants pockets trying to find the key to his car. It wasn't in his pockets. He looked up into the cab and saw the silver glimmering on the floor by the gas pedal.

"What is it?" Casey called over a crack of thunder.

"I locked the keys in."

The young woman started laughing, the blanket dropping as she leaned against the truck.

"It's not funny. I'm freezing."

CRACK.

Lightening pierced the grey sky, zig-zagging like a saw cutting through the dark fabric.

"Oh, come on, Chris, where's your sense of adventure?" She challenged, dropping the basket and moving out onto the grass again. Her arms went up in the air, her face toward the sky, relishing the cool drops running down her face, arms and torso. She looked back at him again. "Rain is cleansing. Powerful magic is to be felt during a fresh rain. Can't you feel it buzzing all around you even now?"

"Something is definitely buzzing," the young man replied, putting a hand to his ear.

She ignored him. "Lightening is just so beautiful. And thunder? It's like the epitome of excitement and passion wrapped up in a sound."

"Yeah, except we're in a park. . .with trees. . ."

"We're not anywhere near the trees," she countered. "Can't you ever look at the positive?"

Chris opened his mouth to respond but found himself pausing. He'd found something positive. Looking at his friend, her cotton dress soaked through, he could see every line of her body, every curve. He swallowed hard as he realized her wet bra wasn't hiding much anymore either.

Casey moved over to him, grabbing his hands. "Come on, play in the rain with me."

"Do you think it's working?" Paige's disembodied voice questioned. 

Casey turned her head to the side, her eyelids squeezing tighter shut as she fought to stay in the memory.

_The dream changed slightly. The event altered from what had actually transpired from there. Instead of simple goofing-off in the rain, which had really happened and which had resulted in the both of them getting terrible head colds, a new past was formed by the girl's subconscious. _

Chris moved deliberately toward her. His hands slid to her hips, then moved up her sides slowly wrapping around her back as he pulled her toward him. Their lips met in a thunderous lock, their tongues lightening in their frantic need of the other.

The young man swung her around, perching the girl on the hood of his truck. His fingers nimbly undid the top buttons of her sun-dress, pulling it back to reveal her bra straps and upper chest. His mouth moved to lay hot kisses on the newly exposed area while his hand slid up her leg to take advantage of her skirt. He'd almost reached her upper thigh, slowly creeping up, making her gasp with expectation when. . .

"Casey, can you hear us?" Leo's voice asked. 

_The image went black. _

A hand was on her shoulder, firm and warm. She could see the back of her eyelids, and knew the dream was over. She was awake and the fantasy she'd created from her past was never to happen. She couldn't help but feel a little angry and disappointed in it. Her dream had only served to remind her of what she'd never have again. 

"Case?" Chris softly asked. "Come on, open your eyes."

She did as he asked, never able to deny him anything. At the look of relief on his face, she rewarded him with a weak smile. She then noticed everyone else standing around the bed with equally relieved looks plastered on their faces. She wrinkled her nose. "I almost died didn't I?"

"Yeah, sorry sweetie," Piper confirmed.

Chris who was already at her side, moved to pull her up into a hug. His face buried itself in her hair, partly out of habit, and partly to hide his emotions from the others in the room. For only her to hear he replied, "I thought I was going to lose you."

"You didn't," she whispered back.

"I could have." Pulling back, he put his forehead against hers. "I'm sorry. For everything. You have to know how important you are to me. What I said..."

"– It's okay," she answered. "I know."

Uncomfortable with the emotional drama going on, having had her share for a lifetime, the young woman decided to lighten it up. She ruffled his hair, knowing how it usually annoyed him. "Being friends with you has never been a cake walk. Goes with the territory."

Chris rolled his while automatically trying to fix his hair. "And you're so easy to get along with?"

"_Claro_."

He grinned, his light green eyes dipping under his thick black lashes before rising back up to focus intently into her coffee brown. With a single look the two were able to share a silent communication. Chris' deep regret and guilt pored through his eyes with the same effect tear drops would have possessed. Casey's shone as deep forgiveness, having the same effect as a warm ten second hug. The only mis-communication was the second layer in the girl's look: the love constantly buried just underneath the surface. Chris only recognized friendship, but what the other witch felt would have put Juliet Capulet to utter shame.

"How you feeling?" Leo asked, regarding her with a gentle smile.

"Good. Except for not really remembering much about tonight."

Paige smirked. "That might actually be for the best considering some of the things you said."

Casey's face fell. "What? What did I say?"

"Oh, nothing much," the youngest Charmed One answered lightly, "just that you slept with Wyatt, which, hey, I say good for you."

Chris shot a dark look to his aunt while his best friend was busy gracing Wyatt with one of complete horror and shame.

The Twice Blessed was hiding in the doorway, half in and half out. His face was to the ground, and he didn't bother raising it even at his aunt's baiting. He had bigger concerns than embarrassment.

"Yeah, well, be that as it may," Piper cut in, "it's been a really long night, and since the demon is dead– "

"– Only this one," her youngest son interrupted. "Zayel is still out there somewhere."

"I realize that, Chris, but _this_ one was the one after Casey, and as he's currently a puddle of blood on your new carpet, I think everyone's safe for now. It's late, and I really don't see what else we can do right now. We'll pick it up tomorrow, and hopefully, find something that will lead us to this Zayel guy."

"Yeah, right," Milash muttered.

Chris glanced over his shoulder at his girlfriend. "What did you say?"

The demon yawned dramatically, stretching out his arms. "Ya'll good night. I said ya'll good night."

"Ya'll?"

"Just really tired."

"I guess," Chris responded. "Killing a demon can do that."

Milash nodded, "Just glad I could save her."

Casey frowned as her friend rose from the bed, moving to wrap his arms around his girlfriend. She didn't know why, but for the first time since she had met Molly, she really didn't like the girl. It was the oddest feeling. Something in the other girl's eyes just seemed so cold when they regarded Chris, detached almost. She supposed maybe it was her jealousy talking, but as Chris put his hands around the other girl, Casey would have sworn Molly had cringed just a little.

"Molly is definitely not the only one exhausted," Phoebe commented. "I don't know about you guys, but I'm pooped."

Paige nudged her sister playfully. "Aw, are we getting too old for these weekday dramas and vanquishes, Sis?"

Phoebe pulled a face. "No, we are not. But _we_ have to get up early for an interview about _our_ book. Unlike certain people, I have a career in the non-magical world."

"Oooh, well, aren't we cranky? Better get your beauty sleep, Pheebs. Wouldn't want the camera to see your bad side."

Her older sister waved her off. "I don't have a bad side."

Piper snorted derisively.

"Hey, now. I heard that."

Piper grinned, "Good."

"Paige, could you drop me off on your way home?"

"Actually, could you drop by my house first? Maybe, you can help with an issue I've been having."

Piper and Phoebe both frowned. It was the eldest that got out, "What? What's wrong at your house?"

Paige shrugged. "It's nothing major really, just. . .the curtains keep disappearing at random, and the couch vanished right out from under Henry yesterday and reappeared on top of Henry Jr. It's a good thing that kid can orb I tell you what. Oh, and the picture hanging on my wall of us three comes and goes too. It's the weirdest thing..."

"That is weird," the empath agreed. "I wonder what would cause disappearing/reappearing furniture?"

"The curtains, the couch and the photo?" Chris commented.

"Yeah, and a tiny section of the carpet, now that I think about it."

The brunet witchlighter winced, running a hand through his hair nervously. "Uh, about that. . .I think I know."

Piper quirked a brow. "Chris. . .?"

"Remember that demon that attacked on New Years Eve?"

"Yeah."

"Well, there was some damage to the livingroom, and to clean it up we sort of used that one spell of Aunt Paige's..."

"So, because you used personal gain magic my furniture keeps disappearing?"

Chris shrugged. "Maybe. . ."

His aunt rolled her eyes. "Great. Well, at least I know why now. I thought we had some sort of really twisted faeries on our hands. You know, instead of car keys they hide the couch."

Phoebe laughed softly. "Come on, Sweetie. I'll help you reverse it on our way home."

"Thanks, Pheebs. Henry really loves that old sofa."

"Wait," Piper called. "Before you go, Paige, could you maybe do something about– you know– _him_." She gestured to the corpse lying on Chris' floor.

Paige waved her hand at the shape-shifter's form and nodded in satisfaction. "Volcano. No one will miss him."

Milash shot daggers at the youngest Charmed One's head. He hated her before when she'd tortured him in the weird cage thing, but now, now, it was personal.

As the two aunts went up in a column of light, Leo stood from his place on the bed, moving a hand to the arch of his wife's back and slowly started guiding her out of the room. "I think the kids need some time alone. We'll go set up an alarm and some protection crystals around the manor, so we can all sleep feeling a little safer."

"Come on, Molly," Chris pulled her close against him. "I'll orb you home."

Milash squeezed his eyes shut and turned his face away from the other youth's. He was really starting to think the perks of this job did not cover the sacrifices he was making.

Casey watched as Chris and Molly went up in orbs, sailing through the air like a light tornado before disappearing. She folded her arms over her chest. "Huh."

Wyatt knocked lightly on the casing to the door.

"Hey," the young woman greeted. "Did you think that was weird?"

The Twice Blessed, arms folded, gave a little shrug. "Not sure what you mean."

"Chris and Molly just then."

"They weren't fighting. Guess that would be weird for you to see. Pretty normal in the long run though."

Casey kept frowning at the spot the other two teens had resided in just moments before. She shook her head. "I can't help it. I got a really bad vibe from her."

"Can we not talk about how jealous you are of my brother's girlfriend just this second?" Wyatt suddenly snapped.

The young woman slunk down in the bed, looking even smaller than usual. Her brown eyes were huge circles as she blinked in shock. After a moment, she ventured, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad, and I'm not jealous. I mean, I am jealous, but it's not that. It has nothing to do with my feelings for Chris. I just...she was acting differently around him. Like she didn't want him to touch her."

"Stop it."

"Excuse me?"

Wyatt sat down on the bed, his eyes tired as he stared down at her. "I can't deal with this right now, okay? I'm sorry. I know that sounds like a real jerk thing to say, but you have to know how much it kills when you talk about how jealous you are. It'd be like Molly telling you how much she loves being in Chris' arms. So, just...don't. Not tonight. Any other night, I'll be happy to be your shoulder to cry on and good old Wyatt, but I can't tonight, so just stop."

Casey leaned forward, her hand moving to his shoulder. "Wyatt. . .what is it? What happened?"

The Twice Blessed turned away from her, still unable to quite look her in the face just yet. He clasped his hands in his lap. "Phoebe had a premonition."

"She tends to do that."

His lips turned up just slightly. "Yeah, well this was different."

"How?"

"She saw you. In the near future. You had a baby boy."

"Come again?"

Wyatt finally looked over at her. "You had a baby boy, and according to Phoebe, you didn't look any differently."

Casey stared at the young man's chest blankly. It was like her mind had shut off as it tried to process and catagorize the information just presented. It took a full minute before her eyes flicked up to his and her mouth was able to operate well enough to question, "Do you mean. . .?"

"I think so."

Her lungs filled with air, her hand flying up to her mouth as she shook her head fervently, tears already forming in her eyes. "No. No no no. Oh, God."

Wyatt moved to console her, but she batted him away.

"Don't touch me right now," she barked.

With hitched sobs she saw her future and dreams vanish. She saw her mother disowning her. Saw her scholarships ripped to pieces. Saw herself trapped in a house all day with a screaming child as she sat on the floor sobbing all alone, unable to help the child or herself.

"You're not alone," the young man tried, his empath power kicking in just a little.

This seemed to make her cry harder.

Wyatt ran a hand through his hair. He was lost. He didn't know what to do to make this right, or if such a way even existed. Picking at a straw he said the first thing that popped into his mind. "Don't keep it."

All crying stopped. She stared, transfixed on his face.

The Twice Blessed couldn't read the expression in the woman's eyes. It was one he'd never seen before.

That's when she shoved him as hard as she could, sending him toppling head over end onto the floor next to the bed.

"You insensitive, _Pendejo_. How _dare_ you. . .I am keeping the baby. Come hell or high water, and I sure as hell don't need a man to help me raise it or support it. So, if you don't want this child, then you don't need to be in its life. Or mine."

Wyatt blinked, slack jawed from the floor. "I didn't. . .I mean I don't. . ."

"You don't what? Want this child? Yeah, I got that part."

"You've got it wrong; I want the baby and to be part of its life."

Casey frowned, confused. "Then why'd you say not to keep it?"

"It came out wrong. It was supposed to be an option, not a demand. I was trying to think of something to say to make you feel better about the situation, like there was hope."

"Oh."

"Yeah," Wyatt grunted as he picked himself up from the floor. "That's when you belted me."

"Oooh. Sorry. I'm really sorry. I just...reacted."

"S'ok."

Casey let out a breath. "So, now that we're on the same page. . .what _do_ we do?"

"Get married?"

"You can't be serious."

"It'd give the baby a stable home and family."

"It'd make both of us miserable."

"Not both of us. . ."

"Yes, Wyatt," Casey argued, touching his cheek lightly, "both of us. I can't imagine anything worse than being in a marriage by yourself. I would never do that to you."

"You don't think you would ever join me, huh?"

"I couldn't promise anything, and I don't want your heart to play guinea pig, okay? Besides, getting married over a baby is a bad idea anyway. Marriage should be a display of love. A celebration of it. Nothing else."

"You're right," Wyatt agreed. "I just feel so. . .guilty."

"News flash. You weren't the only one in that bed tonight. The saying goes, it takes two to tango. Two. You plus me."

"Still, you weren't thinking clearly, and I was, and now both of us have this huge life changing connection."

Casey shrugged, taking his hand. "Worse people to be connected with."

She patted the spot next to her on the bed with her free hand.

Wyatt scooted backwards, leaning against the headboard while she put her head on his shoulder. He wrapped an arm around her and smiled softly at how perfectly she seemed to fit in the crook of his arm. If only she could see it.

"Do your parents know?"

"Everyone does."

"Chris?"

"Yeah."

"How'd he take it?"

The Twice Blessed shrugged. "Okay. Not sure it sunk in yet. I think he was too busy trying to get me to breathe."

"Sounds about right."

She yawned, throwing an arm over his stomach and closing her eyes.

Wyatt patted her back gently. "You know, you could move in here permanently."

"Chris is eventually going to get sick of the air mattress."

"We could convert the basement or put two beds in my room, and put the crib at the end."

"Maybe."

"It's a start, right?"

Casey nodded sleepily. "Yup. It's. . .a. . .start."

Wyatt looked down at her face and saw her eyes shut. She felt a little heavier against him too. It was no wonder she'd fallen asleep really, after the emotional day she'd had. He wasn't about to wake her to keep talking about plans. They had time for that yet.

He kissed the top of her head before laying his against it and closing his own eyes.

Things might turn out all right after all. . .

000

Chris and Milash reappeared in Molly's bedroom. As soon as their feet were back on solid ground, the demon pulled away from Chris and made another show of yawning.

"Molly?"

"Mhmm?"

"Are you feeling okay? I mean, after everything that's happened today, I just thought you might want to talk about it."

"Nope, I'm doing just fine."

The witchlighter frowned. "Okay, but see, you just stabbed a demon, and it's like no big deal. Throwing potions to vanquish a demon and actually fighting one are totally different. It must have been pretty scary for you."

"Not really," Milash replied, checking out his reflection in the vanity mirror. He wrinkled his nose at it. He'd had way better meat suits than this before. She didn't even have any cool powers.

"Not really? That's hard to believe."

"Okay, it was awful. I was terrified." Milash opened one of the drawers to discover a stash of candy. He picked one and held it up for Chris to see. "Think this is real Swiss?"

"Molly, stop it. I know it's been a rough couple of days, but it's me here. I know you. So, stop trying to pretend like you're super strong and fine. I know you well enough to know that you're not."

Milash rolled his eyes toward the wall before turning back to the whitelighter. He shrugged. "I don't know what you want me to say."

"Tell me how you're feeling. What happened back there exactly?"

"Well, I went to check on," he paused before quickly remembering the girl's name, "Casey. He was there. The demon. He was trying to drink her blood, but I interrupted him, and threw a lamp at his head, which really _really_ pissed him off. You have no idea. He seriously wanted to tear my head off for that one."

Milash was happy he didn't have to live with the head ache the projectile would have surely caused him later on. One good part about this new host– no previous damage.

"Anyway," the demon went on, "he charged me, and I used one of the shards to stab him, and he died. Then you all showed up."

"Well, that was pretty quick thinking on your part. I'm proud of you."

"Me too."

"So, you really weren't scared?"

Milash let out a breath, getting frustrated with the questioning. "I said no. I wasn't scared. God, men really don't listen."

"I was just worried about you. So sue me."

"I'm just tired of you," the demon wanted to leave it at that but thought better of it. He decided to use a line he heard on a daytime talk show once. ". . .not thinking I'm capable of taking care of myself."

Chris moved to put his arms around the demon again, who made a face after the whitelighter could no longer see it. "Molly, I've always thought you were strong. It isn't a question of that."

"Well. . .good."

The whitelighter pulled away, moving to place a hand on the smooth face. "I love you, and I'm so proud of you. I appreciate so much everything you did for me and Wy and Case. You were amazing."

He leaned in to kiss who he thought was his girlfriend.

Milash, thinking fast, took a step back, waving his hands. "No, no. I'm getting a cold sore."

"Really?"

The demon nodded, "Yup, right there." He pointed to his mouth.

"I don't see anything."

"It's not there _yet_, silly," Milash went on, still backing away. When he'd put the bed between them, he stopped and smiled in what he hoped was a lovey-dovey sort of way. He wasn't sure though as he'd never used the expression himself. "You know, it's been so long, and I'm so tired. I'm gonna get right to bed."

"Okay. Well, goodnight."

"G'night."

Chris went up in a swirl of lights.

Milash collapsed onto his newly acquired bed. "I hate my un-life."

000

The first thing Molly noticed was the bright light didn't hurt her eyes. It was inviting and warm. She followed it, not feeling her feet beneath her as she moved closer and closer to it. It was like she was in a dream, floating in the clouds.

A clearing broke through the light.

To her amazement, in the clouds was exactly where she ended up.

A semi-circle of beings in golden robes was seemingly waiting for her, their hands all clasped neatly in front of them, the only part of their faces she could see beneath the hoods of the cloaks were the gentle smiles of their mouths.

One stepped forward, lowering the hood to reveal a woman with short blonde hair and kind blue eyes. She extended her arms. "Welcome, Molly. We are the council of Elders, and you have been chosen to join our ranks as a whitelighter for losing your life while saving that of another. A person whose life needed saving in order to ensure the security of the future. By doing so, _you_ secured the future as well."

"Me?"

"Yes, Molly, you."

Molly tried to take a deep breath to calm down, but found she couldn't breathe. Or rather had no need to. The odd sensation of not breathing or having a heart beat anymore, sent her into a panic.

The woman moved to embrace the younger woman. "It's all right, Molly. Your life isn't over. It's just beginning. Your true path has just been paved, and it is an exciting and rewarding journey you will take."

"Wh-who are you?"

The Elder pulled away, her smile practically incandescent. "Sandra. My name is Sandra. I'm the head of the council of Elders."

"What happens to me now?"

"If you accept your place as a whitelighter, we will begin your training, and you will go back to earth and help guide and protect good witches and future whitelighters."

Molly would have cried if she still had tear ducts. "What about my mom? And Chris?"

Sandra's gaze softened considerably. "You may say goodbye to your mother in her dreams, if you'd like. We will help you do so when the time is right. Chris. . .I'm afraid his is a fate that does not intersect with yours anymore. . .at least not just now."

"What do you mean not just now?"

"Your paths will be connected strongly again in the future, but for now, he needs to go on his own journey."

"Can't I even say goodbye?"

"Not yet. You will get the opportunity eventually though."

"Eventually? When is eventually?"

Sandra smiled, "I see why the Halliwells are so fond of you. The same spirit. I'll tell you what, when you are done training as a whitelighter, you may see both Chris and your mother and say your goodbyes. Until then, you need time to transition into your new role in the universe, and they need time to deal with their grief."

"God, Chris. . ." Molly muttered, only imagining how her boyfriend must be reeling at her sudden death. It had always been one of Chris' greatest fears– losing her early.

"Now," the woman Elder continued, "I'd like to introduce you to the whitelighter you'll be working with for the time being."

A column of lights Molly had long ago learned were orbs appeared from the ground and rose up eventually forming into a tall man with dark brown hair and sharp blue eyes. The new recruit instantly found his big smile comforting.

The newly arrived whitelighter extended his hand, "Hey. You must be Molly Vettle."

"Was..." Molly muttered, taking the proffered hand.

"I'm Andy Trudeau."

tbc. . .


	17. A Whole New World

My muse is happy. Your reviews are keeping her well fed :) (she says thanks too )

CHAPTER 17

A Whole New World

The first thing Milash was aware of was the bright sunlight filtering in through the large window next to the head of his newly acquired bed. He opened his eyes and smiled at his surroundings: his own room. His own space with his own queen sized bed, which he wiggled deep down into, pulling the comforter close against him, cocooning himself within the layers of sheet and blankets. It was like heaven. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Milash opened one eye to find Zayel standing over his bed, hands folded over his chest and a dour look on his vein riddled, bulgy eyed face.

The Vetala screamed, burying his face under the sheet.

Zayel ripped the coverings off his minion, grabbing him by what appeared to be his new purple silk pjs and hoisting him out of the bed and shoving him onto the floor. Once his servant was sufficiently cowed, he took a breath and repeated, "What are you doing?"

"Cowering on the floor."

"I see that. Why did you scream? If the mother was here, we'd be revealed, and I would be sorely put out. I don't like killing unnecessarily; it draws too much attention."

"I screamed cause you woke me up all standing over me with your intimidating-ness. Not to mention it, but your face is seriously fugly. Even for a demon. Would you want to wake up looking at you?"

Zayel transformed into a black haired, blue eyed youth of about eighteen years, standing at about six feet, with a long lean frame. He wore a sapphire sweatshirt and jeans. "Better?"

"Hell yeah."

"Can we get on point now?"

"Sure."

Milash stood up, smoothing out the silk top. "I just love this. Doesn't wrinkle no matter what. And feel it." He held out an arm.

It got slapped back down.

"Could you please focus? For a moment even? It's all I ask."

"Well, since you asked so nicely. . .what's up?"

Zayel took a breath, rubbing the bridge of his nose as another headache came on. "You've put yourself in a rather important but dangerous position. You are the girlfriend of the youngest brother. A girl who is a future whitelighter. Not to mention a vital participant in the life of the one destined to ruin us."

"You're mad, huh?" Milash ran over to the vanity drawer and pulled out a piece of candy. He held it up to the other demon. "It's real Swiss. I asked."

The older demon hit it to the floor.

"Hey. If you didn't want it just say so," the teen grumbled, moving to retrieve the lost piece. He smiled as he took it back up. As he rose to his feet, he unwrapped it and popped it into his mouth, sucking on the delicate combination of caramel and milk chocolate.

"Are you listening?"

A nod.

"I need you to follow my instructions exactly, or you will wind up dead. Are we clear?"

He swallowed. "I'm already dead."

"Permanently dead."

Milash held up a hand.

Zayel rolled his eyes. "Yes?"

"I want to be permanently dead. I would see all my friends and family again."

"No, you wouldn't."

"I would too."

"Says who?"

"That one book."

"What book, Milash?"

"The one in the hotel room we stayed at. I forget the name."

"The Bible?"

"No, I think it was a Holiday Inn. Something like that."

"I meant the book. The book."

"Oh, I don't remember. It just said that when you die you get to see people again. It sounded real nice."

Zayel gestured for his comrade to take a seat. When the other demon had perched himself on the bed, the older demon quickly explained, "You're evil."

"I am?"

"How did you get the shape shifter's body?"

"It's not like he was using it. . ."

"And the girl you're currently in?"

"In my defence, she hit me with a lamp."

"And all the witches you've killed?"

Milash shrugged. "It was fun, and I was hungry. You told me to."

"You murdered. Murderers don't get to go anywhere fun when they die. No friends. No family. Just eternal pain and torment, which is why it is a good thing we are immortal unless an annoying little witch decides to change that status. Understood?"

"I don't get to see my family ever again?"

"No."

Tears started filling the demon's eyes.

"What are you doing?"

Milash sniffled. "I'm crying."

"Yes, I see that. Why?"

"Because her body is telling me to. It's all emotional and sensitive and I can't help it. Make it stop, Zayel. I don't like it."

The demon backhanded the other.

Milash blinked. "Oh. It worked."

"Now, are you ready to do exactly what I say?"

"Ok."

"I need you to fill her place with no flaws. It must be perfect if we have any chance at all of succeeding. Otherwise, they'll spot you as a fake, and we'll both be in a very unpleasant place before we can blink."

"Okay, but how do I do that?"

Zayel moved to the night-stand drawer and rifled through it. When nothing of interest popped up, he moved over to the bookshelf and spotted what he was looking for there. He pulled it out and pulled a face at the glittery gold words on the cover– Diary. He ripped off the electronic lock and tossed the book to his minion. "Read it. Learn how she thought. How she talked. Her habits."

"Okay, but what if that whitelighter tries to kiss me again?" Milash pulled a face. "Nothing is worth that."

"It's actually part of my plan. You don't kiss him. You slowly pull away from him. Then, when the moment is right, you rip out his heart."

"Ew."

"Not literally, you moron. By hurting his feelings."

"How?"

"You'll find the answer in that diary. Some detail that will give you the grain of truth you need to make it believable."

Milash raised his hand.

"What?"

"I have a really really important question."

"Yes. . .?"

"What do I wear?"

000

Molly trudged along after the older whitelighter she had been assigned to study as he showed her around 'Up There' as everyone seemed to refer to the cloudy space she was currently trapped in. For her life, which no longer existed as far as she was concerned, she had no idea what he had been saying for the last however long the tour had been going on. She didn't care. The only things she did care about were now out of her grasp.

"So, then we take the babies and put them on these big metal spikes. . ."

The new whitelighter's head whipped up. "What?"

Pearly whites gleamed in a mischievous grin. "Just my way of getting your attention."

"Sorry. Guess I'm not being a very good pupil."

Andy shrugged, shoving his hands into the pockets of his tan trench coat. "Eh, it's all right. I'm not a very good teacher. To be honest, I hate this place. It's so. . .I don't know. . .white. Really gets on my nerves."

Molly smiled softly.

"Ah, so that's what that looks like." He gestured to her face. "It's nice. You should show it off more often."

The girl turned her eyes away in embarrassment. "So, if you don't mind my asking. . .who were you before you became a whitelighter?"

Andy gestured for her to take a seat on a marble bench, seemingly floating on one of the clouds. After she'd made herself comfortable, he moved to sit next to her. "I was actually a detective in San Francisco. Worked homicide."

"That must have been pretty scary considering the kind of creeps San Francisco has."

The sharp eyed man shrugged. "Sometimes. Though, to be honest, saving people outweighed all of the bad stuff. Was no contest. Helping people has always been my calling. The method is just different now. Still just as rewarding, if not more."

"Do you miss your old life, though?"

"Sometimes."

"I can't imagine leaving mine behind."

"Have a special someone?"

Molly found herself blushing.

She then realized she was capable of blushing again. Her eyes went wide in surprise, and she pointed to her face. "I'm blushing. How is that possible without circulation?"

"You're becoming a whitelighter. It's like a rebirth. It takes time to kick in. Soon, you'll feel alive again, just improved– the powers to orb and sense and heal. Wait, I should start at the beginning. How much do you know about being a whitelighter? What did the council tell you?"

"I know everything pretty much," Molly replied.

"Were you a witch?"

"No."

"Did your whitelighter reveal himself to you?"

The young woman shrugged a little. "Sort of. It was a little more complicated than that. Events unfolding the way they did..."

"I'm a detective not a psychic, so mind telling me what that means in plain english?"

"I'm dating my whitelighter's brother." She looked at her hands. "Or I was before I. . ."

"It's okay," Andy held up a hand. "You don't need to go on. But, I do have one question, who was your whitelighter? I'm surprised the Elders aren't having him show you the ropes."

"Wyatt Halliwell."

The former detective's brows shot up. "Halliwell." He shook his head. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

Molly looked up at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

Her mentor rose from his place on the bench and extended a hand. "Come on. Let's go."

"Go? Go where?"

"You're new home."

"New home?"

"Yeah, whitelighters generally have a place to stay on earth for our aliases. Some of us even have jobs."

Molly frowned. "How does that work. Whitelighters are dead..."

"Yet we walk, talk, sometimes even procreate, so I wouldn't find holding down a job all that impressive in the scheme of things."

"Point taken."

"Anyway, you'll be staying with me and my. . ."

"Your what?"

"It's complicated."

"Special someone?"

It was the detective's turn to change colors. "Uh, yeah. You could say that. Anyway, I think getting to know her will make your home sickness go away a bit faster. You two will have _plenty_ to talk about that's for sure."

"Why's that?"

"She's your boyfriend's Aunt."

000

Wednesday meant several things to Casey. One, the awful, horrendous day she had on Tuesday was officially over. Two, it meant the week was half over. The second reason alone made her so happy she could have skipped to her locker after her fourth period class was over.

As she pulled open her locker and started shoving her morning books back in and taking the afternoon texts out, she felt arms wrap around her waist and a head lay on her shoulder. She wasn't surprised when it turned out to be Jessica. She smiled and petted the other girl's head. "Hey. I thought I'd meet you in the library."

"I couldn't wait to see you. I've been worried to death since we talked last night. After I got off the phone with you, I just sat in the break room staring at my cell, knowing you were _not_ okay, and wanting to be with you and fix it. And don't give me that crap about you being fine because you are my sister, and I know you better than that."

"I just didn't want to worry you."

Jessica slapped her on the shoulder. "Well, you did. You really scared me, Case. You sounded so shook up on the phone. So, what's going on? Talk to me."

"Oh, boy. Where do I even begin..." Casey took a breath as she shut her locker and the two girls started down the hall toward the library. "Well, uh, bad thing number one, I slept with Wyatt..."

Only dogs could hear the other girl as she shrieked, "You _what_?"

"It was a mistake and really stupid and. . ."

"Well, no shit it was really stupid. What were you thinking?"

Casey shrugged helplessly. "I wasn't. I was just so messed up, and he was saying all these wonderful things, and I wondered if maybe. . .then it all went to hell from there."

Jess wrapped her arm around the smaller girl's shoulders. "It was a stupid thing to do, but we all make mistakes. I just wish you would have told me what was really going on. I would have dropped everything if you gave the word. You know that. Instead, you made a bigger mess out of things."

"You have no idea. . ."

"Oh?"

"Phoebe had a premonition. I had a baby. And soon."

"You think it's from last night?"

"How could I think otherwise. Especially considering..."

Jessica's eyes went wide. "You didn't."

"We did."

"Casey," she cried shrilly. "What the hell is the matter with you? Did you want to get knocked up or an STD or something? I may be a whore, but at least I'm a smart one. There is no way he is getting anywhere without a raincoat. I thought I taught you better than that."

"I know, I know. I'm an idiot."

Her friend put her arm back around her shoulders and laid her head down. "No. You are not an idiot. You're in a lot of pain. I just wish you would think."

"Me too."

The two girls pushed open the door to the library and headed immediately for the back corner where they always sat. It was far enough away from the study and research sections that no one would mind if they talked so long as they kept it down. Not that anyone was really around during the lunch period to complain.

Casey threw her bag over the back of the chair. "Oh, and Sam attacked me yesterday afternoon."

"Ooh, _what_?"

The time-stopping witch held out her bruised wrist.

"I swear to God, when I get my hands on him there will be a ritual castration with a wooden spoon."

"Wooden spoon?"

"Takes longer and has splinters."

"Ouch."

"Exactly."

"Precisely," Casey commented, continuing part of a ritual they had long had.

"Indubitably," Jess finished, smiling at the familiar back and forth.

"So," Casey began, more serious once again, "what am I gonna do if it's true?"

"The premonition?"

The other girl nodded.

"You'll be all right. You have the entire Halliwell clan." She reached across the table to hold the other girl's hand. "And you know you always have me. I will spoil your child rotten, and be the really cool Aunt Jess with a swimming pool and sparkly objects and puppies. Maybe I'll conjure them a pony for a birthday present..."

"Don't you dare."

"Just kidding."

The psychic held up a hand, "Though, first things first, have you thought about a test?"

"It's still too early to take one. I have to wait a week."

"Well, let me know. I'll be there."

"Thanks."

"Of course, Sweetie."

Just then, a young man with dark black hair and striking blue eyes wearing a sapphire sweatshirt and jeans approached the two young women. He nodded hello to Jessica before turning his full attention to Casey. He extended a hand. "Hi, I'm Logan. Mrs. Wallace asked me to get you."

"Really? Did she say why?"

"No, just that I was to escort you to her office."

Casey shot a worried and slightly confused look to her best friend before grabbing her bag and following the boy out of the library. Once out the doors and back into the main hall, the young man paused near the stairs, shifting nervously.

"Mrs. Wallace's office is that way," the witch offered, pointing to the left.

"I lied," the boy confessed. "I just wanted to get you alone, so I could ask you out on a date."

Chris, who had just finished up a chemistry test, and was coming down the stairwell toward Casey and Logan, paused at the landing leading to the last flight of stairs. He'd spotted Casey with some guy he'd never seen before, and said guy had just asked her out. The witchlighter didn't want to interrupt, so he waited at the top of the stairs, hiding out of her sight.

"That's really sweet, but I'm not really looking right now."

"Oh, you seeing someone? I should have known. Girl like you."

Chris rolled his eyes at the line.

"No, not seeing anyone. Not exactly anyway."

"Not exactly? Whoa, I'm not sure I'm following."

"It's complicated."

Chris snorted. Complicated? Complicated didn't begin to cover it.

"Well, if you're single, I would really like the chance to take you out sometime. Nothing too serious," he assured her. "Just coffee or a movie or something."

"Sorry. I'm not looking."

Logan leaned against the banister. With a knowing look he replied, "So there is someone else."

Casey chuckled softly, knowing she was caught. She nodded. "Yeah. I guess you could say I'm pretty much head-over-heels-slit-my-own-throat in love with someone else."

Chris almost dropped his bag. He quickly recovered, not wanting to make a scene. He threw it back over his shoulder and made sure he was completely hidden behind a wall, but also kept one ear turned out toward the conversation. He was pretty sure he knew who she was talking about. She had just slept with Wyatt after all. It had to be his brother. Who else could it be?

"So, how come you aren't with him?"

"You ask a lot of personal questions for someone I don't know at all."

"Just trying to determine if I have a shot."

Casey smiled at his grin and persistent nature. He reminded her a little of Chris that way. "It would be perfect except he's sort of in love with someone else."

Chris frowned. Okay, that didn't make sense. Wyatt loved her. She was talking about Wyatt. . . right?

"So, then maybe you should move on? Start with a date with a handsome stranger..."

The young woman laughed, shaking her head. "You don't give up."

"Not unless given no other option. I see what I want, and I go after it."

"Me too. Usually," she went on. "This is just a little delicate. I mean, I love him, so I obviously want to do what's best for him. What's best for him seems to be the girl he's already dating."

Chris straightened in his spot. The wheels in his brain started whirling at light speed. He wasn't stupid, but lately, he'd been missing all the signs. When she was sick...she'd said it. Even accused him of not understanding what she had meant. He hadn't. Until now.

"So, who is this idiot you've given your heart to anyway? Sounds like a loser."

"Chris isn't a loser. Far from it."

Oh god. The witchlighter stepped out from his hiding place. Mechanically, he moved down the stairs, his eyes focused on the young woman. His thoughts were scattered like a cloud of flies buzzing around. If they hadn't been, he might have considered digesting the information before confronting his friend about it. That was thrown out the window now though.

Casey gasped as she saw him. "Chris? Hey..."

"You're. . ." he licked his lips, struggling to get the words out. "You're in love with me?"

"I. . .I. . ."

"Since when?"

The young woman shook her head. "I can't..."

Chris recognized the flight instinct take over and moved to grab her arm, but just missed it as she dashed away from him. He took chase, needing to talk to her, and needing to do so now.

Logan smirked as he watched the girl run off. "Gosh, I hope their friendship will survive this otherwise. . .crash and burn little Lucky. Crash and burn."

tbc. . .


	18. Tainted Love

CHAPTER 17

Tainted Love

Molly distinctly remembered the first time she'd ever orbed. It had been at the prom last year. She and Chris had been attacked by demons, and in a last ditch effort to save her life, her boyfriend had waved his hand and sent her skittering through space in thousands of white and blue lights to safety. It had been startling to say the least. It had felt like reaching the summit of a roller-coaster and then suddenly dropping down at a sharp angle. Her stomach had plummeted, her heart had raced, and everything just started spinning. 

Now, after a year of orbing from place to place, the sensation was almost natural. She no longer felt queasy. The surroundings no longer shifted around her. As Andy let go of her hand to present her to the place she would now call home, all Molly felt was deep loneliness. Instead of being wrapped in Chris' arms as she transported to a new location, she was with a stranger, in a strange place.

Andy held out his arms. "So? What do you think of the place?"

The new whitelighter had to admit the home seemed absolutely impeccable. Shining hardwood floors with a long, red Asian area rug composed what appeared to be the entryway. A closet was on the left, a small table with mail and keys resting next to it. Further along, a large white arch lead directly into the livingroom.

Light blues and creams and gold marked the livingroom. A reclining sofa, love seat and lounger surrounded a cherry wood coffee table, which rested in front of the matching entertainment stand. The entertainment area consisted of two wooden doors opening up to a wide screened television. Under those drawers was a shelf with recording equipment. To the left was a glass door revealing a collection of movies both old and new. On the right hand side of the entertainment stand stood an antique lamp with three heads, gleaming golden.

Molly walked further into the livingroom and peeked around the corner behind the sofa where the kitchen was located. Her brows shot up as she spotted tan marble counter tops and stainless steel appliances. Chris would've loved it.

"The bedrooms and bathrooms are up those stairs," Andy pointed toward the other side of the room, behind the left arch. "Ours is the first door on the left. Yours will be the one across from it."

"This place is incredible. How do dead people afford something like this?"

"I told you– jobs."

"You still do detective work?"

"No, unfortunately being a whitelighter doesn't exactly leave time for my old career."

"So, what do you do?"

"Woodwork, actually."

Molly quirked a brow. "Woodwork?"

"Yeah, after I– you know- anyway, I needed something to keep busy with when my charges didn't need me. I was going completely stir crazy. So, my mentor suggested I take up a hobby. Something I would never have thought to do in my old life. It ended up being a bit of carpentry. I made that coffee table and the entertainment stand over there."

"They're beautiful."

"Thanks. I sell a couple of those a week, and it ends up being more than enough to get by on. Plus, best of all, it leaves plenty of time for my charges."

"And Prue? What does she do?"

Andy smiled. "Photos. Submits them under a different name."

"What name?"

"Emma Talbot."

Molly put her hands to her mouth. "Oh my gosh. I've seen her work. It's inspired. The lighting and angles and. . .it's like she reveals the inner essence of the subject. When you look into one of her pictures you practically feel whatever her subject is feeling."

"Why thank you. That's quite the compliment," a woman's voice commented from near the doorway.

The young woman turned around to gape at the sight of a woman she'd only ever seen in photos. However, the pictures the Halliwells had of her really didn't do her enough justice. Prue Halliwell was radiant, her long black hair shining as her sharp blue eyes spit fire from her spirit. For a dead woman, she was just as beautiful as ever.

"Andy?" Prue questioned, head slightly tilted. "Who's this?"

"Prue, hey. I was meaning to tell you. Remember the meeting I had with the Elders late last night? Well, they wanted to tell me about a new charge I was going to have to take care of. This is Molly. She's a new whitelighter. She'll be staying with us while she learns the ropes."

"Oh, she will, will she? And just _when_ were you planning on running this by me?"

Andy gave her a little grin, shrugging slightly. "I figured now was good."

"Gee, Andy, thanks a lot for the warning."

"Gosh, Prue, you're welcome."

The former Charmed One rolled her eyes, unable to keep a smile completely off her face. She then extended a hand to her extended house guest. "I'm Prue Halliwell as my friend here as neglected to mention."

"I did too mention it," the former detective argued.

"Right," she blew him off. She kept her crisp cool gaze on the stranger. "I didn't catch your name."

"Molly. . .Vettle. I'm sorry to be a hassle. I'm sure I can find– "

"Wait just one second," the pathways of Prue's brain started firing at high speed. A look of recognition crossed her face as her lips quirked upward. "So it's finally you."

"How do you know me? Were you watching me or something?"

Andy explained, "Not in a stalking sort of way. Just in a casually interested sort of way."

"How?"

"I still have my sources," the man vaguely replied.

Prue rolled frost blue eyes. "He just talked to Daryl Morris. You're familiar with Commissioner Morris?"

"Of course. He visits the Halliwells a few times a year when he, his wife and their kids are visiting family in San Francisco. I've met him twice. He knows you guys are whitelighters?"

"Not me," Prue answered. "No one can no I'm still...around."

"I talked to him," Andy explained. "He was my old partner down at the Precinct. We trusted each other with our lives. I knew he wouldn't tell a soul about me. We just needed to know how everyone was doing back home."

"Why not just go see them?"

"The Elders have forbidden contact with them."

Molly shook her head in disbelief. "I don't understand. Why would the good guys do something so. . .awful? They're your family. They deserve to know what's happened to you."

Prue was the one to answer. "Piper and Phoebe needed to learn how to deal without me being around. They needed to adjust to Paige's presence in their lives, and learn to accept her as another sister."

Andy continued, "Then, after the years went on, that excuse just lost weight. When we questioned them about it, they gave vague answers. Something about the timing not being right, and keeping safe for the future. It was all a load of– "

"– Andy," Prue cut him off. "Not in front of our guest."

"Sorry."

"Anyway," the former Charmed One picked up, "we didn't buy it for a second. So, we did a little investigating. Talked to oracles, seers, Gypsy fortune tellers, and all of them came up with the same proclamation."

"Which was. . .?"

Andy smiled, "You."

Molly shook her head, startled and unsure she'd heard correctly. "Me?"

"Molly," Prue gently went on, "the proclamations all told us of a special ally coming to us. One only we would be capable of readying for the upcoming battles between good and evil. The Elders didn't want us to see my family again because they knew what was coming. They knew I needed to be ready for the challenge, and seeing my sisters again, being part of their lives would have distracted me too much. I'm the oldest. It has always been my job to protect them. Look out for them. I have a more important job to do now, and my focus can't be split until the job is done."

Andy picked up the story. "Once we figured out the Elders' real reasoning, we confronted them. They confessed it was true. We were destined to train an all important whitelighter connected to Prue's family. They didn't want us to know who you were too early, which is another reason they forbade contact. They were afraid we might try to interfere with your fate, especially seeing as you were dating Prue's nephew, Chris."

Prue gave a sympathetic smile. "I am so sorry this has torn you two apart." She glanced over to her own soul-mate. "I know what that feels like."

Andy put an arm around her.

"So, why am I so important? Why did they think it was right to tear you apart from your family because of me?" Molly questioned. "I still don't understand."

Prue let out a breath before answering. "The Elders said you would be destined to protect the one person capable of definitively ending the struggle between good and evil."

"Casey's baby..." the young woman breathed. "I'm supposed to be the baby's whitelighter."

000

When she was a little girl, Casey often played tag with the other kids. It was one of her favorite games. It involved speed, agility, and quick thinking– all of which she had possessed. She'd always been exceptionally gifted at the game, out-running and out-maneuvering other kids with ease. Except Chris. She'd always wondered why it was he always managed to catch up to her and swipe his hand over her just enough to get her 'it'.

_"Come on, Chris, you can run faster than that," _her childlike voice called from her memory.

Casey closed her eyes, feeling the cold winter wind cut through her hooded sweatshirt and bite her skin. Her ears felt numb already and her cheeks burned. The pain of the cold was a far better option than facing Chris right now. So, she kept running.

_A random day in the Halliwell's back yard many years ago. Tori, Wyatt, Casey and Chris were playing freeze tag. Chris was the designated chaser after a whack on the arm from his older brother. The young man immediately set his sights on his best friend, gunning her down. _

Casey bolted as soon as she saw the gleam in his eye. She turned on the edge of her sneaker and shifted to the right, just missing a slap on the shoulder. Once her pursuer was off-balance she managed to get a lead on him and went full speed ahead toward the front yard. She ran so fast that as she rounded the corner of the manor she managed to dash right out of her shoes. Without her shoes, she slipped on the dewy morning grass.

Sliding onto her rear-end, laughing the whole way down, Casey turned to find Chris right behind her. Only problem was he tripped on her shoes and fell right on top of her.

The two laid on the cool grass, laughing until they couldn't breathe and their stomachs hurt from the force behind their mirth.

Once the laughter had stopped, Chris had turned to her on the ground, a smile still glued on his face. His eyes shone with a look she'd never seen before. Then, with a mischievous twinkle forming, he suddenly kissed her on the cheek. "Tag. You're it."

Then, he got up and ran.

"Damn it," the young woman cursed, the memory bringing tears to her eyes. She wiped them clear, refusing to let herself fall into crying. She was tired of crying. Before a few weeks ago, she'd rarely cried. Once or twice in her whole life perhaps. It wasn't something she was comfortable doing, yet lately, it seemed to be all she was capable of doing. 

As she crossed the back parking lot toward the football field, she was suddenly cut off by blue and white lights forming in front of her. She tried to stop, but ended up skidding straight into Chris' newly appeared arms.

"Are you insane?" she yelled. Lowering her voice, "Are you trying to get yourself exposed? You don't just _orb_ into a public area like this, Chris."

"No one's around but you. Even if they were, I'm not sure I'd care right now."

"You sure as hell better care. You of all people should know the ramifications of exposing magic. I heard the story of your Aunt Prue. You're too damn impulsive, and it's going to get you into trouble."

Chris folded his arms over his chest. His eyes were steel as he questioned, "Are you really going to sit here and lecture me about this right now? Because avoiding the real subject here, isn't going to work."

"Don't be a _gilipollas_," she snapped. "You have no right to demand anything from me. None."

"Like hell I don't. I deserve to know the truth."

"Why? What good would it do? None. It'll only cause trouble, and the last thing I need. . ."

The young woman swayed on her feet, her eyes closing just before her legs gave out.

Chris jumped forward, catching her in his arms. "Casey? Oh, God...come on. Wake up."

It took a long moment before her eyes flittered open. She blinked slowly as her vision tried to regain focus. She frowned as she realized she was in her friend's arms. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you don't fall on your head." Chris moved to help her get back to her feet. Gently, he guided her over to the hood of a new Ford Flyer, setting her up against it, so she could lean on it for support. His hands never quite left her waist though. "You fainted."

"Oh."

"Oh? What do you mean 'oh'? Fainting is not a normal every day occurrence, Case. You scared the hell out of me for a second. I didn't know what was wrong."

The young man studied the pale pallor of his friend, the bags under her eyes and the gaunt look her face had taken on just recently. He folded his arms over his chest. His gaze left no room for evasion. "Did you have breakfast this morning?"

"I had a glass of milk."

"That's not food. When's the last time you honestly ate something?"

She looked away from his stare. "Yesterday. . .at lunch."

"You mean the chocolate bar?" He shook his head in frustration. "What the hell is the matter with you? No wonder you fainted. You need to take care of yourself, especially now that you're. . ."

The young woman looked back at his face as he drifted off. She was startled to find it a storm of emotion. His eyes were no longer seeing her, but rather focused on something only his mind was viewing, perhaps only thoughts centered around the word he was unable to articulate just then.

As fast as the conflict overcame him was as quickly as it was pushed aside. His eyes cleared, and he extended a hand to her. "Come on. I'll check you out, and we'll go."

Deciding not to call him on his emotional struggle just the moment prior, Casey went with the change of subject. "How do you plan on doing that? Students can't check each other out from school."

Chris reached into his pants pocket and pulled out his cell. He flipped it open with on hand and stuck it up to his ear. "Dial school." His voice suddenly morphed into that of his father. "Hello, this is Leo Wyatt calling. I believe you've been informed that Casey Alvarez is currently staying with our family?"

Pause.

"Yes, well, she and my son Christopher seem to have caught the flu from Chris' older brother. Neither one of them will be returning this afternoon."

Pause.

"All right. Thanks a lot. Bye-bye."

Chris snapped shut his phone. "Done."

"You are just all about using your magic today, huh?"

"Would you get off my back and just grab my hand, so we can get out of here?"

She rolled her eyes but grabbed his hand anyway. At the same time she saw Chris vanish from sight and realized he was using his invisibility, a power he'd gotten from his father. She imagined she was see-through as well. As she began to question what he was doing, she felt herself pulled by his magic, the familiar feeling of orbing taking over.

As they reappeared in an empty stock room, Casey realized Chris had brought her to the restaurant Piper owned. She recognized it easily as it was the first place she'd ever worked. She'd spent the better part of a year in Charmed, helping out in the kitchen as soon as she hit sixteen. During her last few months, she and Chris had spent quite a bit of time in this stock room. Though, it rarely had anything to do with cooking. . .

She was pulled out of that thought as she saw Chris grabbing supplies from the shelves. "What are you doing?"

"What's it look like?"

"Stealing from your mom?"

He shot her a look over his shoulder. "Funny. Actually, I'm making you lunch. You can help if you think you can keep up."

She smiled at the cocky grin he was shooting her. "You can't be serious."

"What? Don't remember your way around the kitchen anymore?"

"No, it's not that," she dragged out. She started batting her pretty eyes at him in a way that always signaled trouble. "I just don't want you to look so bad you lose all self-confidence."

"Oh ho," he laughed. "Game on."

"What are we making, Chef?"

"Lamb medaillons with garlic and for dessert, your favorite– Caramelized apples and vanilla cognac crepes."

"Won't the others notice we just sort of appeared?"

"Nope. We're taking the stuff back to my place and cooking it there. Just grab four lamb medaillons, and we'll be ready to go."

Casey went to the back meat locker, snatching up the main ingredient of their lunch, closing the door and heading back to her friend, who nodded for her to take hold of his arm. As soon as she had a grip on him, he orbed them back out of the room.

They reappeared in the kitchen of Halliwell Manor. Chris set his materials down on the counter before taking the meat off his friend's hands and placing the white wrapped lamb into the fridge until he was ready for it.

He moved to wash his hands thoroughly, noticing Casey pulling her hair back into a messy ponytail, much like she always used to do when they worked shifts together at the restaurant. He moved aside, allowing her to wash her hands. He then pulled out a casserole from the cupboard. Turning on a low flame, he moved back to the fridge and grabbed a stick of butter. Pulling out a knife, he cut a chunk off the end and placed it in the casserole along with a swirl of the good extra virgen olive oil he'd brought from the restaurant.

Casey immediately got to work on the dessert. She pulled out three crisp apples from the bottom drawer of the fridge. Snagging the cutting board from Chris' left side, she moved it over to the other counter and got to work cutting them into cubes.

Chris, just finishing up the garlic marinade by adding four tablespoons of soy sauce, put a cover on it and let it simmer. He glanced over to his friend and shook his head. "Those cubes are too big."

"They're exactly half an inch. Precisely the right size."

"All right, if you want to do it wrong. . ."

She tossed one of the apple cubes at him.

He laughed, picking it up from the counter and plopping it into his mouth. "Thanks."

Fifteen minutes later, Chris was searing the lamb while Casey finished the sauce for their dessert. She dissolved half a teaspoon of cornstarch in a teaspoon of water before adding it to the caramel, cinnamon apple cider combination simmering in her skillet. Stirring it for a few minutes, she watched in satisfaction as it thickened to perfection. She poured it over her already finished crepes. She rinsed off the skillet in the sink, turned off her burner and then moved her dish to the table.

She plucked one of the crepes with apples from the main plate and onto a smaller one in front of her, taking a big bite out of it. She breathed out as the heat seared her tongue, but the sweet-tart taste of the dish made it worth while. "Mmm...Oh my god. I forgot how good these were."

Chris, plating his garlic lamb medaillons, shook his head. "Hey, don't spoil your appetite for the main event."

"This _is_ the main event." She pointed to the dessert. "They turned out the best I've ever done them. Seriously, taste."

He took a seat next to her, rolling his eyes at her. "You and your sweet tooth."

She held one up to his mouth. "Just a bite. You've got to taste it while it's fresh out."

"So I can scald my tongue?"

"Pleeeeease?"

Chris rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay. Give it here."

He took it from her, biting off a healthy piece. His eyes immediately closed as he let his tongue roll over the battle of flavors. Tart versus sweet in a tantalizing combination. He let out a moan of appreciation. "Wow."

"Told ya."

"Oh, wow."

She giggled softly.

Chris took another bite, relishing it.

"Take it you haven't had them for awhile either?"

The young man shook his head. "Not since you made them last time. I don't remember them being this good. Were they this good? I mean, these are like. . .perfection."

"As if everything I cook isn't perfection?" she joked.

Chris finished his crepe. After licking his fingers clean, he picked up his fork and easily cut off a piece of his lamb, dipped it in the garlic sauce and held it up to her mouth. "Your turn."

She smiled opening her mouth obediently. She captured the hot, juicy meat with her teeth, sliding it off the tongs of the fork. Closing her eyes, she let her culinary tongue examine the flavors. She chewed it slowly, reveling in the savory garlic, the background tang of the soy sauce and the mild yet unmistakable taste of the tender lamb, which practically melted away in her mouth.

"Well?"

Casey took a deep breath, enjoying the last fragments of flavor. "_Divino_."

The two continued eating, often forcing the other (with little to no effort) to take another bite of their contribution to the meal. After awhile, when the food was completely licked clean off the plates, the two sat at the table, satisfied beyond measure.

In the silence that followed, the young woman softly admitted, "It is true."

Chris turned to look at her, but said nothing.

Casey continued staring at her plate. "This afternoon was so great even though it started off shaky. So, I figure, you know how I feel, and things didn't get weird, so it's okay to say it out loud. What you heard at school. . .it's true."

"Why didn't you just tell me?"

The young woman shrugged. "I didn't want to make things complicated."

"Good job on that," the witchlighter sarcastically shot back, a teasing nature in his tone.

"Yeah, no kidding."

"So, when did you realize?"

She let out a breath. "You really want to know?"

"I really want to know."

"The night we were first together."

Chris' brows shot up. "Excuse me? You were. . .but you had just. . .and we. . ." He shook his head to clear it. "Why didn't you say anythingback then? I mean, do you have any idea how different things would have been if I would have...if you would have even _hinted_ that maybe. . ."

"What do you mean it would have been different? You're the one that cut off contact with me, not the other way around, Chris."

Wyatt's words from the night before echoed in his mind. _Try this on for size: You've hurt her far more than I ever have or could. You don't even know what you've done to her._

"Oh God. . ."

"What?"

"I didn't know. I swear, if I would have known, I wouldn't have cut you out. I thought I was doing what was best for you. Honest. Case, I didn't know you had any sort of real feelings for me at all. I just thought I was playing the part of the rebound guy."

"It's that whole assumptions saying rearing its head."

Chris reached across the table to take her hand. "I'm so sorry. The last thing in the world I wanted to do, or would ever want to do, is hurt you. I'd give anything to take it back."

"Why?"

"You didn't know?"

"Didn't know what?"

"I was in love with you..." the young man quietly confessed, his jade eyes barely looking up from under his dark lashes. "Had been for years."

"You're the one that kissed Tori."

Chris frowned. "No, she kissed me. Besides, what does that have to do with anything?"

"I saw. I saw, and then you told me how she was your first kiss, and how great it was. A week later Sam asked me out."

"Wait a minute. You're telling me you only ever went on that date with Sam because you were jealous I kissed Tori?"

Casey shrugged. "Well, I never expected I'd fall for the cure."

"Wow."

The young woman gave a short laugh. "Yeah, our timing pretty much sucked."

"To think, if one of us had only ever had the guts to actually tell the other how we felt, things would have been a whole lot better."

"Not necessarily."

"What do you mean?"

"You never would have met and fallen in love with Molly."

Chris smiled softly. "That's true."

"She seems pretty great."

"She is."

Casey let out a breath. "We're okay aren't we?"

"Case, we could never _not_ be okay. You could tell me you killed a guy, and I'd just go put a shovel in the truck and ask where the body was."

"Well, now that you mention it. . ."

The two laughed.

Chris scooted his chair over next to hers. He pulled her head gently down onto his shoulder and rested his on top of hers as he held her close against his side. "Just because you're in love with me doesn't mean I'm going to suddenly stop speaking to you. I'll just try to be more thoughtful of your feelings when Molly's around, or when I'm talking about her to you. And if you need to talk to me about it, I'm here. I'm still your best friend, even if I may be the source of your problems right now too."

"I don't want things to get weird."

"We won't let them get weird. I'm just sorry I hurt you so much. Am hurting you..."

"Too bad I can't switch to Wyatt, huh? He loves me. I would love him. You and Molly would live happily ever after. Then it'd all be perfect."

Chris pulled a face. "You as my sister-in-law would be awkward."

"I'd be with the baby's father."

"You don't know for sure there is a baby."

"You really hate the idea, don't you?"

The witchlighter paused before answering. "It's not right. It's not what you want, and it's not how Wyatt wants it. And the idea of you and him together like that still bothers me some."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

The front door opened and closed.

Milash walked into the kitchen, pausing at the entrance. Twitching his finger, he brought Casey's lips up to Chris'. The demon then made his presence known with a pained gasp. As soon as the two sets of eyes were on him, he bit his tongue as hard as he could to draw tears to his eyes.

"Molly?"

"I saw you two. Oh God. I can't be here."

Before Chris could even wrap his mind around what had just happened, the Molly-imposter was out the door again. Chris shot a look to Casey, "Why did you do that?"

"I didn't..."

"You say you don't want to make things complicated or ruin our friendship then you pull a stunt like that?"

Casey shook her head helplessly, "Chris, I didn't, it– "

"– Save it. I've got to go try to salvage this before it's too late."

As Chris went up in a spiral of orb lights, Casey stared at the spot Molly had been standing in moments ago. "You're not Molly."

tbc. . .


	19. Bad Company

CHAPTER 18

Bad Company

Jessica closed _Dante's Inferno_, looking over to the clock hanging on the east wall of the library. Casey wasn't back yet, and it had been nearly twenty minutes. The young psychic hoped everything was okay. Something about the guy who had come to fetch her friend had unsettled her. As a psychic, she tended to get vibes about people, and they were never wrong. The guy had distinctly gotten her hackles up. 

Rising from her chair, grabbing her book bag and slinging it over her shoulder, she went in search of her friend. However, just as she rounded the corner toward the circulation desk, she spotted her long-time boyfriend waving to her from the hallway. From the look on Kip's face it was serious.

Once in the hallway, the woman asked, "Well?"

"Chris took Casey home. He called a little while ago. Said I was supposed to tell you. I guess she wasn't feeling well."

"Oh, this he tells me, but when my best friend is _dying_ no one bothers to pick up the damn phone."

"Whoa dying? When was that?"

"Last night."

"She's okay, right?"

"No, she's not okay. She almost died. Her father is dead. Sam hurt her."

Kip put his hands in the form of a 'T'. "Hold it. Sam hurt her how?"

"He pushed her against some lockers, held her so tightly he bruised the hell out of her wrist, and so help me, I am going to kick his sorry ass for laying a hand on her."

The black haired youth grinned. "I actually have a better idea."

"Oh?"

"What's the use of being witches if we can't use it to our advantage now and again?"

"Personal gain, personal gain, personal gain. We don't punish the guilty."

"Maybe you don't," Kip argued, "but when a guy thinks its okay to assault a woman, I am definitely down for a little vengeful magic."

"No. Bad, Kip."

The young man started walking away, off to find his friend's attacker.

"Kip, get back here. Kip, heel." As he disappeared from sight, "Aw, crap."

Following his trail, she decided to be there for whatever stunt her impulsive boyfriend planned on executing. After all, if she couldn't stop him, she might as well A. Make sure it didn't cross the line and B. Enjoy the show.

She spotted Kip standing by the entrance to the gym. When he heard her approach, he turned his head to look at her, putting a finger up to his mouth as a sign for her to be quiet. Then, he murmured under his breath, "Powers of the witches rise, course unseen across the skies. Until his morals lost are found, release this mortal's inner hound."

The two witches peered around the corner just in time to see Sam, who had been doing laps, suddenly slow then pause. A moment of confusion passed over his face before he glanced down at his hands and saw them morph into paws. As panic set in, his nose and ears transformed into those of a dog. He felt the changes and reached up to feel. The velvet fur on his pointy little ears made him yelp with surprise and full blown anxiety. Luckily he didn't have long to worry about it. The rest of his transformation took over.

"Oooh, look at the puppy," Jessica cooed, pointing. "He's so cute. Look at his tiny ears and his short little legs."

"A dachshund?" Kip questioned. "He turned into a dachshund?"

Jessica wasn't listening. She was already moving into the gym, scooping the long bodied animal into her arms. Snuggling up with the newly made dog, she gently scratched behind his ears. "Aw, you are little bittle, aren't you? Yes, you are." She glanced up at Kip, "I like him better like this."

_Put me down. Put me down. Oh my God. What is happening to me?_

Kip was the only one capable of hearing Sam's mental cries. He shook his head, "Hey, Sammy boy, this is retribution. You want to be human again, you better remember how to act like a human. You figure out what that means, and then you can be a real boy. Got it?"

_Who are you? What are you? _

"Can he understand you?" Jessica asked. 

"Course he can. All animals can understand us if they want to. Most of them just don't care. Let me tell you, the thoughts I have picked up from random squirrels...make a sailor blush. Foul mouthed little crack-heads."

_Gotta get out of here. Freaks. Crazy freaks. _

Jumping from Jessica's arms, Sam scampered across the gym floor, his new nails clacking on the hard floor as his back legs slid some on the shiny surface. Before either of the two teens could catch up to the little guy, he'd disappeared out the back doors. 

"Oh no," Jessica breathed.

Kip paused a moment. "Huh. Hope he doesn't get hit by a car..."

His girlfriend, horrified, whacked him on the arm. "Not funny. We have to find him. This is why we do not use magic for revenge. Now, come on before something horrible happens to him, and I have to explain to Case that her ex went to go live on a farm."

000

Casey checked the Book of Shadows before tossing in the required ginger root. She then moved over to the supply cupboard to dig for one of the other ingredients she needed for the potion she was brewing. Pushing jars and bags to the side and standing on her tip toes to look into the back of shelf, she finally found what she was looking for and went back to the pot, sprinkling in the extract she'd just grabbed.

Orb lights coalesced near the fridge, forming into the Twice Blessed. The teen immediately pulled open the door and started rummaging through the leftovers Piper always had scattered about. He settled on making ham sandwiches, pulling out the container of leftover pork.

As he turned around to start preparing his late lunch, he noticed the possible mother of his child dashing about the kitchen like mad, sprinkling ingredients into a kettle now and again. As she went back to the cupboard, Wyatt leaned against the counter, arms folded over his chest watching her. When she didn't even seem to notice his presence he tilted his head to the side. "What ya doin'?"

The young woman didn't even lose a step as she flicked in a few blessed thistles. "Making a potion."

"Yeah, okay, I got that. What for?"

"Chris' girlfriend," she answered absently, skimming over the rest of the directions in the book.

"Okay, just because you're jealous does not mean it's okay to vanquish Chris' girlfriend."

Casey finally looked up at him, her dark eyes thunderous. "She's evil. She has to be stopped. If she even is a she anymore. I'm not sure about gender right now."

As the female witch went back to her brewing, Wyatt pushed himself off the counter and moved to block the other teen from reaching the supplies. "You. You're acting crazy. Just stop for a minute and think about what you're saying."

"I know what I'm doing, Wyatt," she argued, shoving past him to reach the purified water. "She– He– _It_, is not Molly, okay? It's a demon. I knew something was off last night. I saw it in her face, the way she cringed and almost pulled away from Chris' touch. Her whole aura was different. Then today, she used telekinesis on me."

Wyatt, deciding to ride it out, asked, "Oh?"

Casey, noticing his skepticism, started shaking the water a bit harder than necessary. "Yes, Wyatt. I know telekinesis when I feel it. Chris used it on me all the time when we were kids. It sure as hell wasn't him that did it either because he would never force me to kiss him. He would just kiss me. And I _was_ forced into it. I felt the magic press against me. The only other person in the room was Molly, so it had to be her. I mean, the timing couldn't have been more perfect to set me up. Coincidences like that don't just happen when you live in the magical world."

"Wait, wait. You kissed Chris and Molly saw?"

"No, the demon made me kiss Chris and the _demon_ saw."

Wyatt grabbed the bottle of water from her and set it on the counter. "Stop it."

"Fine, you don't believe me. How about this? Molly killed the demon last night, right? Hand to hand with no experience ever doing so before. She was a born pacificist as a future whitelighter. Also, the only thing damaged was the lamp. How come there wasn't a bigger struggle? It's not like a demon is just going to stand there while she stabs him. Ooh, and another thing, did you see any blood on her hands?"

"What?"

"If she stabbed the demon with that shard of glass, you'd think her hands would have gotten bloody, but if I remember correctly, they were completely clean. Weren't they?"

Wyatt wanted to argue, but found he couldn't. He'd been there when Chris had found Molly. Her hands had been spotless. "Yeah, I guess so."

Casey snatched the water and poured it into the kettle. "So, I figure she didn't kill the demon. The demon stabbed himself and then possessed her, which is why she's only been acting weird since last night."

"Okay, there's the kink in your theory though, it was a Vetala that attacked you."

"What's a Vetala?"

"It's like a vampiric-spirit. It only can inhabit corpses."

Casey's eyes grew wide, her mouth falling open just slightly.

"No," the other firmly denied. "You can't be serious."

"Wyatt, what if this thing wasn't killed by Molly but instead..."

"Don't say it."

"I don't want to. I don't, Wyatt. Contrary to what you think of me, I'm not so heartless as to wish the poor girl dead. She was nice to me. More to the point, Chris loves her. I would never _ever_ wish that kind of pain on him. If you think I would then you don't know me at all. But, I can't ignore what I saw and felt."

Wyatt shook his head. "You're wrong. You're distraught and not thinking clearly and letting your jealousy make you see the worst."

"She was a future whitelighter, Wyatt," Casey argued. "It was always her fate. And I think I know how she met it."

Casey lowered the neck of her sweatshirt revealing what looked like two tiny red burn marks on her neck. "I noticed these marks this morning. Didn't think much of it. Now, I think he started feeding on me, and she drew him away from me. I think she died trying to save me. If what you guys say about my future child is true, and he's meant for such greatness, then it would make sense she would be rewarded with whitelighter status for sacrificing herself for him, wouldn't it?"

"It's just a bunch of theories. Really horrifying theories."

Casey turned to her potion, using a turkey baster to fill a vial. "This will prove me right or wrong, and I hope for Chris and Molly's sakes I am wrong."

"What is that?"

"It's a potion your Aunt Prue developed. It's supposed to choke and strangle any demon that drinks even a drop of it. But, it won't hurt a human."

"You want to test Molly."

"I can't live with the idea of Molly's killer getting away with it. With some demon trotting around in her body doing who knows what to the people she loves. It's a disgrace to her memory."

"If you're right."

Casey nodded. "Yeah. If I'm right. As I see it, either we'll reveal a demon and stop it or nothing will happen, and I'll just feel like a real ass, which is a risk I'm willing to take."

"What do you mean _we'll_? You think I'm going to go along with this?"

"Can you live with yourself if I'm right, and you did nothing?"

"If you're right, it means the love of my little brother's life is dead. A person I happen to really care about. Besides, she's my charge. I would know if something happened to her."

"Can you sense her?"

"Excuse me?"

"Sense for her. It should be easy."

Wyatt rolled his eyes before shutting them. He reached out with his mind, navigating the web created by magic. Her image in his mind's eye normally acted like a search query on the computer, and as such would instantly bring him a link to her location. This time, it was as though an error was on the screen. It remained blank. He saw nothing. He felt nothing. A void existed where she should have been.

His blue eyes snapped open, crashing into the other witch like tumultuous waves of sorrow. "She's gone. I should be able to sense her anywhere. She's not anywhere. If she's not anywhere then..."

"I really wanted to be wrong," Casey softly murmured.

"How could I not sense it before? A whitelighter should feel his charge's pain. Their death should be felt keenly through your connection to them."

Casey moved to wrap her arms around the young man to comfort him. "You couldn't. If she was immediately possessed, the death would have been muted by the spirit's presence in her body. Unless you actively tried to sense her, there was no way you could know."

"How am I going to tell Chris? How can I look him in the eyes and tell him the woman he loves is dead?"

Casey moved back, reaching for the vial she filled. "The only way he'll believe you is with proof."

"Proof isn't going to stop his heart from breaking."

"He wouldn't want to live with the lie, Wyatt," the young woman countered. "For her sake, he'd want to know. It'll hurt like hell, and I wish there was something I could do to save him that, but there isn't. We just have to avenge her death and be there for him in the aftermath."

Wyatt swallowed down a baseball sized lump in his throat. "So, what's the next step?"

"She won't let me anywhere near her, I'm sure. Chris probably wouldn't let me in the door as angry as he is with me right now. So, as much as I hate to put this on you. . ."

"I have to be the one to give it to her. It's okay. He's my brother. I should be the one to do it."

Casey hesitated. "I could use an invisibility spell or something. . ."

"No. It has to be me. You were right. Just give me the potion."

"Are you sure, Wyatt?"

The Twice Blessed let out a breath. "No, but let me have it anyway."

Casey handed over the clear colored potion, watching as the older teenager went up in a cloud of light to deliver the worst news imaginable. The young woman hugged herself. Looking up to the sky, she whispered, "I'm sorry, Molly."

000

When Milash threw open the door to his body's bedroom, he wasn't surprised to find the whitelighter boy already standing in the middle of the floor. Zayel said he would come after the set up was made. Zayel was really smart, so of course, it worked out the way his mentor had told him it would.

"Molly, please, what you saw back there wasn't what you think."

"Save it. I saw you kissing. There's not really a way to not understand kissing. Lips connected on lips equals kissing. It's not rocket science."

"She kissed me. Not the other way around. I would never cheat on you. I would never cheat on _anyone_."

Milash, already bored with this conversation, started rummaging through the vanity drawer for a good piece of chocolate. As an after thought, he shot back, "Kissing _is_ cheating."

Chris, more than frustrated, moved to grab her shoulders to force her to look at him. "Molly, do you see what's in my eyes? Is it the look of a guilty cheater, or one of a guy that loves you like crazy?"

The demon couldn't tell the difference. "Maybe, love?"

"Maybe? Molly, how could you doubt it? We've been together for almost a year. I have done everything you've ever asked of me. I'm waiting for you, which might I say hasn't been the easiest thing for me to do when I love you so much and just want to be as close to you as possible. Sometimes it kills me to have to pull back because I want to make love to you, but I know you aren't ready. I know you're not, and I don't want it unless you are. That's how much I love you."

"Aw, that's actually kinda sweet," Milash found himself replying.

Chris smiled shyly. "I'm just saying, I've been waiting because you're the only one I want to be with. Nothing else matters. So you should know I'd never throw that away by cheating."

Remembering his orders, the demon asked, "It was her fault completely then?"

"Yeah. She's got feelings for me. I didn't know," Chris confessed, pacing out into the middle of the room while running a hand through his chestnut locks. "She just told me today. It was kind of a shock."

"You know, she's caused nothing but trouble since she's gotten into town. The drama and the demons. She's a bad influence in our lives."

"She's been having a really hard time lately. Don't you think some leeway is in order?"

"No, I don't," Milash answered. "She hurt our relationship, used your brother and broke his heart, and she's brought dangerous demons into our lives. I could have died last night, Chris."

"But, you didn't," Chris argued. "Demons are just a fact of our lives. If she didn't bring them, they would just find us later anyway. You know that."

"I don't like her."

"You don't really know her."

"She wants you for herself. I don't trust her, and I don't want her in your life."

"What? You can't be serious, Molly. She's my oldest and closest friend. What am I supposed to do– toss her to the curb?"

The Vetala shrugged, trying to reach behind him into the drawer since his last attempt had been thwarted by the whitelighter grabbing him. His finger brushed against a piece of candy. He pushed it against the front of the drawer and started sliding it up. "Yes?"

"Yes? You can't mean that."

Success. The chocolate was in his hand. "Sure I do. It's either her or me."

Orb lights swirled in between the demon and the witchlighter. After a moment they took the shape of the Twice Blessed, who was holding a dark green thermos. He forced himself to smile at the demon wearing his friend's body. "Hey, you. I brought that tea you wanted to try."

"Wyatt, could you not tell we're sort of in the middle of a serious conversation here?" Chris questioned.

Milash used the opportunity to quickly unwrap the chocolate and pop it into his mouth.

The older witchlighter reached out with his telepathy. _I think Molly's possessed. The tea is spiked with a potion that will choke a demon, but it won't harm a human_.

Chris frowned as he received the mental heads-up. Something definitely seemed off with his girlfriend today. How had Wyatt known she was possessed though? The younger brother had a feeling something was being left out.

"Here, might as well take a sip now," Wyatt said, filling the cover of the thermos with the tea. He handed her the make-shift cup.

Milash took the proffered tea and took a drink, wanting to get rid of the Twice Blessed as soon as possible. The blond haired witch made him nervous.

As soon as the tea hit the imposter's throat, the demon started choking. He dropped to his knees, grabbing at his neck. Figuring out the tea had been spiked, Milash knew his cover was blown and decided to split before the tall and muscular older Halliwell brother decided to blink and send him up in flames. He released his hold on the body and went out through the floorboard as a cloud of wispy smoke.

Chris ran over to Molly's fallen body, kneeling next to it and raising the head into his lap. "Molly? Baby, you can wake up now."

Wyatt let his eyes shut, pursing his lips as he tried to prepare for what was coming.

"Wyatt, something's wrong."

"Yeah, Chris. It really is," he softly, painfully concurred.

The younger brother stared up at the older, looking helpless and lost. "What do you mean?"

"She's been possessed since last night."

"Last night?" The brunet witch didn't comprehend the significance of the time for a moment. When it sunk in, Chris was left with a sickened look on his face, his eyes already growing moist. "The Vetala? That was the Vetala?"

"I'm so sorry, Chris."

No wall, emotional or mental, could be constructed by Chris to defend himself from the acute pain which now tore through his chest with the ferocity of a bull's horn. His heart seemed to stop beating. The air in his lungs seemed to be sucked out by an invisible vacuum. His mind shattered into splinters of panicked, horrified thoughts.

Still holding his girlfriend's head in his lap, the young man stroked it reverently with his thumb, noticing the color was rapidly vanishing now the demon had evacuated. He brushed his fingertip over her normally soft and warm lips to find them dry and cold to the touch. It was all he could stand.

He pulled her torso up against him, completely breaking down. Rocking her still form in his arms, Chris squeezed his eyes shut trying to hold in an unstoppable flood. His body started shaking as the sobs slowly escaped from his lips. "M-molly. Nn-no. Please, God, n-no."

Wyatt moved to sit next to his sibling. For a moment he didn't know what to do. Chris was the reserved one. The one with all the steel barriers and sarcastic defenses. To see his little brother literally _sobbing_ made his own heart spasm, his blue eyes misty.

The young man kissed the top of the dead woman's head, his hand stroking her hair as he continued to rock her in his arms. "It wh-wasn't ss-supposed to end l-like this. I love you. You weren't s-supposed to leave m-me. Not like this. God, nn-not like this."

The older brother put an arm around the younger. He knew better than to speak just yet.

Chris looked up at his brother as though remembering he was there for the first time. To the other boy's surprise, the brunet threw himself into his big brother's arms, latching onto him, his hands clawing at the older boy's back as he clenched the Twice Blessed's shirt, desperate for something to ground him, something to latch onto while marring Wyatt's shoulder with salty tears.

And for the first time in his life, Wyatt understood what it meant to feel totally powerless.

tbc. . .


	20. I'll Be There For You

CHAPTER 19

I'll Be There For You

When Chris had been five and Wyatt seven, the older brother had woken up in the middle of the night to an unexpected surprise by the end of his bed. 

_Sitting up and blinking through the darkness of the night, the Twice Blessed Child spotted two bright eyes shining_ _back at him through the midnight air near the end of his own bed. If they had been at any sort of threatening height level he might have been scared, but any demon barely four feet tall didn't really seem imposing. _

"Wyatt," a tiny, timid voice spoke.

Instantly annoyed at having been woken up by his twerp of a brother, Wyatt flopped back down and rolled onto his stomach, burying his face back in the comfort of his feather filled pillow. In a muffled blur, he moaned, "Go away."

Just as he was starting to drift back into the land of lollipop dreams, he was rudely pulled out of it as his bed shook and two hands pushed into his side. He opened his eyes to glare at his sibling, who had crawled into bed with him and was currently on his knees, pushing at the older of the two, trying to get him to move over.

"Stop it. Go to your room, Chris. I'm gonna tell Mom and Dad..."

Chris paused, sucking in a worried breath. "It's scare-ry."

The older brother was instantly fully awake. He rolled over onto his side, looking up at his baby brother. "What's scary? Is there a demon?"

"No."

"A bad guy?"

"No."

"The dark?"

"Nooo," the littler boy whined in frustration. He shook his head emphatically. "I was lost, and it tried to eat me. It grabbed me and tried to eat me, and I couldn't get away. There was a dark place and you were yelling for me, but I couldn't find you. I couldn't find you. I looked and looked and looked and looked, but you weren't there. Then the ugly green hand with claws, it grabbed me and I couldn't get away then it tried to eat_ me." _

Wyatt blinked. "A nightmare?"

Chris nodded, his bangs flopping up and down on his forehead.

"Why are you telling me? Go tell Mom and Dad."

Chris shook his head just as hard as before.

"Chris, I'm tired. I want to go to sleep. What do you want?"

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?"

"You have your own bed."

The little boy lowered his head, only looking up through his thick bangs. "But I wanna be able to find you. It's safe if I'm with you."

The Twice Blessed smiled softly before scooting over toward one side of the bed. He patted the now empty space on the other side, rolling his eyes as his little brother quickly laid down and pulled the extra sheet and blanket up to his chin. "G'night, Chris."

He glanced over to his brother when he didn't get a response. The green eyed youth had fallen asleep as soon as his head had hit the pillow.

Wyatt missed the days when his mere presence was enough to make Chris feel safe and happy. The older they got the more the older brother realized there were things out in the world– nightmares– that were unable to be dispelled no matter how hard he might try to do just that. 

Chris was sitting on his bed back at the manor, a photo in hand. When the older brother managed to peek a look, he wasn't surprised it was the photo from Molly's senior prom. Chris was in their father's old tuxedo, and Molly looked absolutely gorgeous in her black satin finished gown with the white embroidery detailing. His little brother's arm was around his date's waist, his eyes looking softly down on her as she gazed adoringly up at him.

"Chris?" The older teen ventured, worried as the other hadn't spoken yet.

"She didn't know how pretty she really was," Chris softly stated. "Not even now. Not really. She is– " He nearly choked on the word. "Was. She was beautiful though."

Wyatt nodded in agreement from his place next to his brother. "Yeah. One of the most beautiful I'd ever met. It glowed from inside her. It really did. I think you brought it out."

Chris' hand slid over the glass covering, caressing it fondly. He swallowed hard, trying not to get too emotional again. "She's going to be an amazing whitelighter."

"No doubt. Her charges are lucky. They'll be getting the best."

"Do you think she's okay? Up there?"

Wyatt put a hand on his baby brother's shoulder. "She was always an angel, Chris. It's where she belongs."

Chris nodded, trying to smile but not quite managing to find it in him to do so. Instead, he just looked back down at the photo in his hands, staring at the face of the woman he loved. After a moment, he softly said, "I need to be alone right now."

"Are you sure?"

"What you haven't seen me cry enough yet? Could you just. . .just go."

"I don't like the idea of you being alone just yet, Chris..."

The younger boy raised his eyes, a storm obviously brewing within their gaze. Sharp and fierce as thunder, yet the pools of water forming beneath the green clouds was a sure sign of the rain ready to spill down.

The Twice Blessed backed down. Rising from the bed, he turned to shoot his brother a look when he reached the door. "Just give the call and I'll be there."

"I know," Chris roughly replied.

Wyatt offered a thin lipped smile before leaving his brother alone with his memories and grief.

"Stupid question, but how is he?"

The Twice Blessed turned to find Casey wringing her hands down the hall. No doubt the girl had been pacing back and forth since he'd brought Chris back. "He's saying goodbye to the woman he loves. There are no words for how bad he is. I've never seen him this way." Wyatt got choked up as he explained, "My baby brother was literally _sobbing_ in my arms, and there was nothing I could do or say to make him feel any better at all. I just sat there with him like a big dumb useless jerk."

"You're none of those things, Wyatt," Casey argued softly. "You're an amazing brother. You always have been. He'd never admit it out loud, but you're his hero. Just having you there with him in a time like that must have been a little comforting."

Wyatt gave her a tiny curve of a smile for her kind words. "Thanks."

"Not to be insensitive," the other witch started, fidgeting, "but does her mom know? And how do we explain her daughter was killed by a vampiric spirit, but it's okay cause she's a whitelighter now?"

"I cleared our prints from the area, then made an anonymous call to the police. They'll tell her. She'll probably never know the truth. I mean, sometimes I've heard of whitelighters being able to visit their loved ones in dreams to say goodbye. Molly might be allowed to do that."

"I hope so."

"Me too. That poor woman...Molly was all she had left in the world. I can't imagine being all alone like that."

"When do you think a funeral will be?"

Wyatt let out a breath, running a hand through his blonde locks. "I don't know. The weekend probably. It's hard to imagine being there. The whole thing is surreal. Like I'm in some sort of horror movie that won't end. Chris was terrified of losing her this way. Had been from the start, and now, it happened."

"Well, you know, if you think about it, it doesn't have to be totally sad. Actually, she's not really dead. She's just sort of. . .living-impaired."

"Have you always done that?"

Casey looked confused.

"The making jokes during serious, life-changing moments bit," Wyatt explained. "I don't remember you ever doing that before."

"I've had one too many lately. I think it's becoming my way of coping. Because at this point? One more bad thing and I'll spontaneously combust."

Wyatt glanced back toward the door of his brother's room. "Yeah, I understand the feeling."

000

"So, tell me again why we're here?" Molly asked.

Prue pointed across the Golden Gate Park, toward a little brown smear running full-speed ahead. "That's why."

From what Molly could tell, it was a dog. A very small dog, whose short little legs were working overtime in order to move the long body anywhere at any sort of speed. "We're here for a dachshund?"

Andy grinned. "Not quite."

The former detective moved off the bench they were seated on and toward the tiny animal. Chasing the little pup around for a few minutes, the man was finally able to catch hold of the scamp, pulling him up into his arms. Once the animal stopped wiggling and was secure, the whitelighter returned to sit next to his long time love.

Prue reached over to pet the animal lightly. "He's so cute."

"That may be true, but why are three whitelighters babysitting a dog?" Molly asked. "I thought we dealt in witches and future whitelighters."

"We do," Prue agreed. "This little guy is going to help us set you up to meet your first charge."

"What do you mean?"

Andy took up the explanation. "You see, most whitelighters aren't meant to ever reveal themselves to their charges. The only time it happens is when they're in danger, and it becomes unavoidable. Most of the time, it's our job to keep them on track. Guide them. In order to do that and remain undercover it's a good idea to meet them as one person to another."

"Like Leo with the handy-man job?"

"Exactly," Prue answered. "You are going to give this puppy to your new charge."

"Because whitelighters bribe their charges with furry animals?"

The older woman smiled. "No. Of course, not. It's just she happens to be looking for this little guy, and you're going to help her out by restoring him to her."

"A friendly, helpful meeting," Andy put in. "Nice and simple."

"How did you know she was looking for this puppy?"

"I took on her case when her old whitelighter was killed a few months back," Andy answered. "So, I look in on her now and then. Happened to see her looking for this dog."

"So, when do we go give him to her?"

"Not we," Prue corrected. "You. And we're not going anywhere. She'll come to us. It's less suspicious if you just happen to have caught him in the park first rather than showing up on her doorstep with the dog."

"So, in the meantime, can I ask you something?"

Andy shot her a mischievous smile. "Sure, you can ask us anything. We just aren't obligated to answer anything."

Prue rolled her eyes. "Go ahead. We'll be as honest and forth-coming as we can."

"Why me? Why am I destined to be the whitelighter to someone so important in the future?"

"Easy," the former witch answered, "you know both the baby's parents. You have history with the family. They trust you. Plus, you gave your life to save the mother's."

"Still, shouldn't someone more qualified do it? Like Paige or Wyatt or even you?"

"We'd all be too emotionally invested. As Leo learned after many years, sometimes there is a thing as too close. As a whitelighter, you need to be able to think about the bigger picture, to guide your charges with a clear head. That would be impossible to do if the charge was your family. There has to be a balance between emotional involvement and neutrality."

"But this means I do get to go back. If I'm watching over the baby, I have to be around the manor a lot to do it. Which means there's a chance for me and Chris, right?"

She noticed the less than convinced looks on her two mentors' faces. "What don't I know? It can't be because I'm a whitelighter. Piper and Leo changed those rules. I've heard the story before. So, if it's not the Elders forbidding it, then why do you two look like there is no hope?"

"It's not exactly like there's no hope," Andy started. "More like, it's...improbable."

"Why?"

The detective looked up to Prue. "Your turn."

"Oh goodie." She took a deep breath. "Molly, there are things happening right now, important things that have to happen in order for the future to turn out the way the good guys want it to. And part of it involves Chris."

"How do you mean? I thought it involved Casey and the baby?"

"It does..." Prue hesitantly answered. She looked up to Andy.

"Oh, me?" The man cleared his throat. "You see, Molly, certain things have to happen, which might lead to your relationship changing. It won't be like it was when you do eventually go back."

"Different how? What are you guys not telling me? And how do you know so much about the future anyway?"

Andy continued. "Well, the Elders sometimes have an ability to see into the future. They saw this. They told us some of the details, so we could in turn prepare you."

"So, what happens to Chris in the future?" Molly demanded, frustrated by the vagueness of her companions.

Prue pointed out across the park excitedly. "Oh, look. She's here."

Molly looked to where the former Charmed One was pointing and was surprised by who she saw accompanying her new charge. She almost revealed this fact to her mentors, but at the last moment decided against it. If they knew she was familiar with Kip there was a chance they'd reassign her, send her away, or maybe even glamour her like she'd seen Paige do before. However, if they didn't know, she might be able to use Kip to get a message to Chris.

"All right," Prue said. "You're on."

The newest whitelighter grabbed the squirming dachshund from Andy's grasp and rose to go meet her charge. As soon as she got within earshot of the other two teens, she called out, "Looking for this?"

Her words caught the attention of the unfamiliar girl with Kip, who immediately made her way over to Molly, taking the animal into her arms and cradling the puppy like a baby. Molly's attention was more on Kip, though, as the young man reached his girlfriend's side. "Hey, Kip."

"Hey, Molly," the young man grinned. "I haven't seen you in a long time. How is college treating you?"

"Great. It's ah, great."

"Cool." Kip gestured to Jess, "I don't think you've ever met my girlfriend, Jessica. She's in all the plays and stuff at school, so she's normally too busy for the parties and stuff."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "And don't even get me started on all the sewing I've had to do this year. I practically _live_ in the costume shop. No wonder we haven't met. I'm normally so exhausted I go straight to bed."

"Yes, she certainly does," Kip teased, winking.

"Quiet you," his girlfriend warned. She then turned her focus to Molly once more. "It's lucky you found this little guy. We've been looking for him for hours. My feet are _killing_ me."

Molly smiled at her charge. "Well, I'm just happy I could help, and to finally meet Kip's girlfriend. I've actually heard a lot about you. All good, I promise."

"Wait, a minute. Molly...as in _Chris's_ Molly?" Jessica wondered.

"Yeah. I guess so."

The other girl raised her brows in appreciation. "Darling you are just gorgeous. Those big hazel eyes and thick dark hair. You have the most amazing skin. I bet you use a sugar scrub at night. Does wonders. I just love the stuff."

Molly chuckled softly, a little embarrassed at the attention.

"Don't mind her," Kip cut in, "she lives and breathes all that girly stuff. My mom calls her the pretty pink princess."

Jessica shrugged. "I like pink sparkly things. Is that _so_ bad?"

Molly, who had lived and breathed the color black for years, decided not to comment. She appreciated the other girl's vivacious nature though. She could see how Kip would fall for someone like her.

"Uh, Kip, I have a weird favor to ask," Molly started, "I need you to pass on a message to Chris for me."

"Why can't you just call him?"

The young woman improvised. "We got into a really stupid fight, and I guess, I'm just not quite ready to let him entirely off the hook yet. But, I need you to tell him something from me as a sort of peace offering."

"You realize how childish this all sounds?"

Jessica cut in, "It's not childish. It's teaching Chris that just because he's smooth and good looking doesn't mean he can get away with acting like a jerk. Which, knowing him, I am sure he was. I swear, the way he treats Case sometimes..."

"Case...Casey?" Molly asked.

"Sore subject. Back away slowly," Kip advised.

"No, no. It's fine. I just didn't realize you knew her."

"She's practically my sister."

"Oh. Wow, so you guys are all connected. That's really...neat."

Kip shrugged. "Met in magic school. Found out we all went to the same public school, and have pretty much been the four Musketeers ever since. Anyway, enough about that, if you want me to play telephone, you should probably give me that message."

"Right. Right. Just let him know that for the time being I'm going to be staying with my Uncle, Andy Trudeau, and his girlfriend, Prue. And I'm fine and love him very very much and always will no matter what. Just, tell him all of that for me. Please."

"Sure. I don't get you two crazy kids and your games, but what the hell. I'll tell Chris the next time I see him."

"Tomorrow?"

"Probably...you seem kinda funny. Everything okay?"

Molly smiled softly. "If you tell him that, I'm hoping they will be."

000

Piper put the last of the supper dishes in the cupboard before turning around and leaning against the counter top, trying to keep a grip on the tears threatening to break. She and Leo had found out about Molly's death when they'd gotten home. They had both gone up to see Chris right away, worried their youngest son might do something self-destructive. It turned out he'd just been sitting there on his bed, clutching a picture in his hands, his face stained with tear trails, his eyes puffy and red. While he was no longer crying, it was almost worse to see him so deadened. His face was numb, his eyes focusing on nothing and his voice when he'd asked them to leave him alone was not angry or choked with grief but instead bitterly resigned.

Chris Halliwell didn't do resigned.

"Piper?"

The mother looked over as her husband entered the kitchen. "Hey."

"I just talked to Chris again."

The Charmed One wiped her eyes dry with her hand. "And?"

"Same. It's like he's become completely detached. He didn't say a word about Molly. He just sat there for a moment then calmly said he was fine and would I please let him be alone. He didn't want company."

"That's not like him," Piper murmured, her heart breaking. "Our little boy is nothing if not a fighter."

"I think he realizes he can't fight this one. It was always her destiny, Piper."

"Screw destiny, Leo. It isn't right for that girl's life to be cut short. Or for Chris' heart to be torn out of his chest. All destiny has ever done for this family is cause pain."

Leo walked over to his lover's side, pulling her against his chest. "I know, Piper. He's our son. It kills me to see him like this too. And Molly. . .she was special. So special she's in the ranks of the angels, now. It's not all bad. I was a whitelighter for over seventy years, and it was the most rewarding experience of my life. It brought me you and the boys. And it's tragic her life with us ended so suddenly, but her life isn't completely over."

"Do you think we'll ever see her again? That maybe she and Chris will ever see each other again?"

The former Elder smiled softly. "I wouldn't be surprised. She wasn't brought into our lives for no reason, Piper. You know nothing ever happens without reason. In the meantime, we just have to stay positive for Chris until that day comes."

Casey plodded into the kitchen just then, moving to the cupboard and taking down a pot and pan. She then moved over to the fridge and started rifling through the contents.

Piper frowned. "Didn't you get enough to eat at dinner, Sweetie?"

"Not for me," the girl automatically responded, pulling out a stick of butter, a bag of chicken breast she'd taken down from the freezer earlier, and a small carton of cream.

"You're thinking of making something for Chris?"

"Not thinking. Doing."

She went over to the supply cabinet and pulled out the box of salt along with the pepper. It was clear she wasn't really paying attention to the adults in the room. It was like watching a machine the way she moved– driven, goal-oriented and completely confident in every move she made.

"We already asked him if he wanted dinner," Leo said. "He was pretty firm when he said he wasn't hungry."

"That was you," Casey replied. "I have a plan."

"Plan?" Piper questioned. "What plan?"

Finally, the young woman turned to face the parents, a firmness in her gaze as she regarded them. "I will get him to eat. I will get him to talk. Just trust me. I know him better than anyone save Wyatt. I can do this. I've got to."

"You've got to?" Leo asked, noting the odd word choice.

Casey lowered her gaze, her voice dipping to a soft, unsure quality. She took the oil from the counter and sprinkled some into her pan. "It's my fault he's suffering. If I never would have gotten him involved, Molly. . .she'd still be here. They'd be together and happy. I took that away from him."

Piper's mouth fell open as she realized the kind of responsibility the young lady was putting on her shoulders. She looked to Leo, wondering how on Earth they were going to convince her what happened wasn't her fault.

The Elder, picking up his wife's silent communication, decided he would try to get through to the girl first. "Casey, you didn't cause Molly to die. What happened wasn't your fault. You aren't responsible for it. You know that...don't you?"

The young witch didn't respond. Her eyes slid to the side and before long she was pulling out a cutting board and knife and cleaning the chicken. As she sliced the fat from the breast, she noticed Piper move to one side of her and Leo go to the other. She slid the removed fat to one side of the board with her knife before moving onto the next breast.

"Sweetie, none of this is your fault," Piper tried.

Casey sawed off the slimy covering, moving it over to join the waste pile she'd already formed. She kept focused on her task, the knife blade moving smoothly over the meat, tearing through the unwanted pieces and sliding them over to the pile with such ease it was like watching a culinary dance.

"Did Chris say something to you about it?" Leo asked.

"No," She answered, finishing her task. She picked up the fat and plopped it into the garbage disposal. She used her forearm to pump soap onto her hand and the knife blade. She then scrubbed her hands and cleaned the utensil before turning on the disposal and listening the roar of the blades as they chewed the fat. Once she could only hear the whir of the blades, she shut off the disposal and answered, "I haven't seen him yet."

"You do know he would never blame you," the father continued. "Neither would Molly."

She didn't respond. She just moved over to the spice rack, picking out a few bottles. She mixed them together then moved over to the chicken to massage the spices into the clean breasts.

Piper decided to try another route. "What are you making?"

"Cajun chicken over linguine noodles covered with a light white wine sauce."

The mother smiled knowingly. "Isn't that Chris' signature dish from the restaurant?"

Casey nodded, finished with the two breasts. She moved them into the pan she'd placed oil in earlier. Once they started sizzling she went back to the sink to scrub her hands again.

"So, you think he'll eat if it's his dish?" Piper guessed.

"No," Casey negated. "He'll eat it if I make enough for two."

Leo frowned, not following. "Why's that?"

"Because he'll want to make sure I've eaten, and I won't eat unless he does, and he knows it."

Piper smiled. "Pretty good plan."

Casey moved to start the sauce, she forked in a few spare chicken pieces into a small pot, letting them brown. Once they started sticking to the bottom, she put in half the stick of butter, letting it melt on the bottom.

"Doesn't he use more butter than that?" Piper questioned.

"Yes."

Piper waited for her to put the rest of the butter in the pot. When the young woman didn't make a move to do so, the mother asked, "Aren't you going to use that then?"

"No."

The Charmed One felt like throwing her hands in the air. She had no idea what Casey was up to at this point. She was making a dish, and purposefully doing it incorrectly. It didn't make any sense. More frustrating, she wasn't paying any attention to herself or Leo. She let out a breath, realizing the girl wasn't going to talk to them about how she was feeling. Maybe, she'd talk to Wyatt or Chris. Coercion didn't seem to be working for her and Leo.

"Well," Piper said wearily, "if you want to talk to us, you know Leo and I will both be here for you."

"Thanks. I appreciate that."

The Charmed One moved out of the kitchen, turning to her husband as he met her out in the conservatory. "Well, now I know why they've always been such good friends."

"Why's that?"

"They're both too stubborn and independent for their own good."

000

Half an hour later, her dish in her hands, Casey knocked lightly on the door to Chris' room. When she didn't get an answer, she slowly opened the door to find her friend lying on his back staring up at the ceiling, hands behind his head. He didn't look over when she came into the room.

Completely undiscouraged, the young woman moved to place the large plate of food next to his bed on the night stand. She didn't say anything. She just set the food down and started walking right back out of the room. She only paused at the door, turning around to softly say, "You don't have to eat it if you don't want. I know I still don't always feel like eating. Sometimes it's too hard to just keep breathing and eating is just one thing too many to deal with. Anyway, I just thought you might be hungry later."

Chris nodded his thanks but didn't look at her.

"I'm sorry," she added. "For what it's worth, I didn't know her well, but what I did know, I liked."

Then, she opened the door and started to head out.

"Wait."

Casey turned back to find Chris finally looking over at her. "What is it?"

He looked unsure at first. Then, spotting the amount of food on the plate shrugged. "I can't eat that all. You want some? Knowing you, you haven't had dinner."

She had, but wasn't about to say so. Instead, she just smiled and moved to take a seat on his bed while he grabbed the food and placed it in between them. While he was busy cutting up the chicken and noodles to make it easier, she confessed, "The sauce didn't turn out right for some reason. Guess I'm rusty after all."

"The coloring is right," Chris offered. He took the fork and spun some noodles around on it before spearing a piece of chicken and putting the dish into his mouth. After he'd chewed and swallowed, he asked, "Half a stick of butter?"

"How'd you know?"

"It's not quite as rich as it needs to be. It's still good, just a little off. The rest is perfect." After a moment, Chris asked, "Didn't I teach you the three rules of French cuisine?"

"I'd almost forgotten. Let me see: it's butter. Butter. And last, but not least, more butter."

Chris smiled slightly, nodding. "Yeah."

The two went on to eat mostly in silence, but it was comfortable. The food was nice and hot, full of flavor, and it connected the two in a way that comforted both of them. When it was done, Casey grabbed the plate and silverware, rising to take them back down to the kitchen.

"Are you coming back?"

Casey turned to look at her friend. "If you want me to."

"Yeah."

"Then I will."

After she'd washed, dried and replaced the dishes she'd used, Casey went back upstairs to find Chris flipping through an album. He looked up as she entered, and there was no mistaking the shine in his eyes. He smiled through the mist. "I was looking through an old album Molly put together."

"Can I see?"

He patted the spot on the bed next to him. Once she was comfortable, he moved the black covered book of memories in front of her. The first page was full of prom photos. Casey was shocked to see Chris in a tux. If she remembered correctly, he had vowed to let Scabbard demons burn off all his skin before ever wearing one. He looked good. Especially with Molly. Casey couldn't ignore how beautiful the young woman looked, how the other girl's eyes just sparkled as they looked up at Chris.

"I remember this day," Chris murmured, turning the page to find images of a water fight in the front yard. "I was washing the truck and Wyatt snuck up behind me with the hose. Molly had seen him coming and took a digi-capture. Then we both ganged up on her."

"Looks like you guys had a blast."

Without warning, Chris tossed the book against the wall. His companion jumped from the loud crack as the book crashed against the opposite wall, knocking down a framed photo of Wyatt and Chris when they were children.

"Fuck."

Casey stayed quiet, waiting for the melt-down to run its course.

"I hate this. I hate everything about this. I hate that she's gone. I hate that I didn't realize the truth right away. I hate that I'm supposed to be happy for her because she's fulfilling her destiny and becoming this paragon of good. I'm not happy for her. How can I be? We had all these plans for the future. Marriage and kids and the white picket fence. We honestly thought it would be us someday. Hell, we waited to. . ." He cut himself off. Instead, he bitterly continued, "We waited for a future that was never meant to come."

"You gave her love."

Chris looked up at his companion.

She continued. "You loved her. Do you have any idea what a gift that is? Knowing the kind of tenderness you two had is something people don't experience every day. In fact, I'd bet some never find the kind of connection you two had. So, her life as a mortal may have been short, but you made her last year worth as much as most lifetimes."

Chris didn't say anything, but the hard look in his face melted away. He took a deep breath. "Does it get better?"

"The pain?"

He nodded.

"Depends on the day. Sometimes, I can go all morning and afternoon without thinking about my dad. Then the next day, every moment I have to remind myself just to inhale and exhale. I wish I could tell you time would heal it, but I'm not sure it really does. Losing people we love isn't something I think we should ever get over. Not completely. Sure, they'd want us to move on and be happy, but the scar on us should be a reminder that we loved and lost, but aren't afraid to do so again."

"I like that idea."

"You've always been a survivor. This time won't be any different."

"Thanks," he started, "for being honest and for letting me correct you earlier."

"What do you mean?"

He gave her a look. "I'm not stupid. I know you messed the sauce up on purpose, so I'd talk. You just knew I wouldn't be able to pass up the chance."

"I had to do something."

"I'm glad you did."

000

It was midnight when Casey tip-toed to the bathroom through the darkened hallway. She'd crashed on the air mattress in Wyatt's room, opting to let Chris have his own bed back. Now, she needed an aspirin since she'd woken up upside down, her head smashed between the floor and the pillow portion of the air mattress. She had no idea what she'd been dreaming about to land her in such an uncomfortable position, but her head was killing her.

"Molly."

Casey heard the mumbled, desperate voice coming from Chris' room. Without hesitation, she moved to his room, gently pushing open the door.

Chris was tossing and turning in the bed, the sheets and blankets a mess around him. As she got closer she could see his brow furrowed in worry and near panic. His breathing was ragged and quick.

She moved to lean over him, gently putting a hand to his shoulder. "Chris," she whispered, "it's okay. Settle down. It's just a nightmare."

He stopped struggling, his face relaxing.

"That's it," she soothed.

Once he'd drifted into a deeper, more peaceful sleep, the young woman let out a breath and smiled down on him. "Sleep well, Chris."

She moved out the door, pausing only to whisper to the sleeping form, "I love you."

After she was gone, the sleeping youth murmured, "Love you too."

tbc. . .


	21. Can't Find My Way Home

CHAPTER 21

Can't Find My Way Home

Molly stared out the kitchen window at the rain pouring from the ominous clouds. Leaning her head on the palm of her hand, she watched the drops run down the glass pane, splintering off into infinite paths before splashing in a puddle on the outside sill. As she watched all the different paths form, she wondered where her path was taking her, and if she would ever be able to go back.

Was Chris staring out his window right now? Was he seeing the same storm she was, watching the streaks falling from the sky? Was he thinking of her as she thought of him?

"Mornin'."

The novice whitelighter turned toward the sound of Andy's voice. She was mildly surprised to find him already dressed for the day in a white dress shirt and black slacks. He seemed to have been up for a while, which was strange considering she'd been certain she was the first one up.

Dropping a bag onto the kitchen table, Andy gestured for her to peak inside. "Breakfast."

"Not hungry," Molly murmured softly, returning her gaze to the grey sky. In an effort to be civil she half-heartedly asked, "Is Prue still sleeping?"

"Nah. She's always the first one up and the last one down. She went to take some photos of the storm. Should be back any second now."

The man took a seat at the table across from her, opening the bag and pulling out a freshly made bear claw. He took a big bite, letting out a moan of pleasure, eyeing his charge for a reaction. When she didn't so much as blink, he plopped the pastry onto the table and folded his arms over his chest. "You can't fight it. Trust me. I tried like hell. You wanna know what helps?"

The hazel eyes flicked over to him.

"Orbing," he grinned.

"Orbing?"

Prue came bustling into the kitchen, tossing an umbrella into the corner. She smiled warmly at the young girl while reaching to take down a mug and fill it with coffee. "How you feeling this morning?"

Molly shrugged. "Okay. Andy said something about orbing."

Prue raised an eyebrow at her partner. "Oh did he?"

The former detective shrugged. "She needs to know how to do it eventually, and I thought it might cheer her up. Am I wrong?"

Prue wrinkled her nose, smiling. "No. No, I don't think you were. So," she turned to Molly, "you know what orbing is?"

"Sure, Chris and Wyatt used to orb me all the time."

"Did they, now?" The former Charmed One raised her brows, mildly surprised. "Things certainly have changed. Back when I was still living at the manor, the Elders forbade it. The only one of us that got to orb was Piper, but that was just because she was Leo's wife."

"I think it changed since Paige is half-whitelighter."

"Right. Paige."

Andy noticed the look in his lover's eyes and quickly rose from his spot at the table, clapping his hands together. "So. . .orbing. You're not hungry, so we might as well get started, right? We'll do it in the livingroom."

Molly followed the man into the larger space, watching as Prue came up behind snatching pillows and tossing them on the floor. When there were no pillows left, the woman pulled the cushions from the sofa and piled them on the floor as well. As the older woman noticed the younger's curious look, she explained, "Just in case."

"We'll start with orbing in place," Andy said.

Their charge took a seat on the pillows, waiting for instructions. What she didn't know was that Prue had slipped behind her and was slowly sneaking up on her. Once the other woman had gotten right up behind her, Prue yelled, "Go."

Startled at the loud noise, Molly spontaneously went up in a shower of lights only to immediately reappear in the same spot only slightly off-balance causing her to fall backward into the pillows.

"That was how it feels to orb," Prue explained. "It's now a part of you. Inside of you. So, what did you feel?"

"Warm at first, then freezing cold and sort of. . .lightheaded? It was completely different than my times with the boys."

Andy grinned. "That's because the energy needed to orb is coming from you now. The magical energy is inside of you and right before you orb, it builds up, making you a little warmer. Once all that energy is dispelled in the actual orb, you get cold. Make sense?"

"Yes."

"Okay, so what you need to do now, is focus on locating the magic. It'll feel like a warmth radiating from within you. Grab onto it, feel it building and building and building," Prue instructed. "Do you feel it?"

Molly nodded.

"Now, we're just focusing on orbing in place right now, so you don't need to think of a specific place just yet. Just release the magic in one big burst."

The young woman felt the cold sweep through her, but as fast as it came on was as fast as it ended, and she ended up face first in the carpet.

"You were thinking of a place weren't you?" Andy guessed. "That's why your orb wasn't in place– it was forward. You don't know how to go from one place to another though, so you weren't going to get too far."

Molly flushed slightly. She'd been thinking of Chris, of getting back home.

"Trust us, the time for big jumps will come. For now, learn the basics," Prue advised.

Yes, she would learn the basics. She would master them. If she could master what they taught her about orbing there was nothing to keep her from where her heart lay. Once she was able to orb, she'd have a way home.

000

Wyatt sifted through the newspaper, skimming through the sports page before pulling out the funnies and tossing the rest onto the kitchen table. He chuckled at an amusing strip before taking a sip of his coffee. Just as he was about to set his cup back on the table, he spotted Chris plodding into the kitchen, fully dressed in a black t-shirt, a white long sleeved tee underneath, and khaki cargo pants.

"Hey, what are you doing up?"

Chris snatched an apple from the bowl on the counter. "I have to go to school."

"School?"

"Yeah, it's that one brick building with all the books, depressed teens and alcoholic adults who wished they would have majored in accounting during college instead of education."

Wyatt rolled his eyes, smiling at his little brother's trademark sarcasm. "You know that's not what I meant."

"Can't stay here," Chris answered, sinking his teeth into the juicy granny smith and ripping off a chunk.

"Do you think it's really a good idea to go to school, though? With everything that you've just been through, staying home might be the better plan. Especially since by now, everyone is going to know, and they're going to talk."

"So, what am I supposed to do, Wyatt? Stay here and count the raindrops? I'd go crazy. Besides, aren't you supposed to be back at college today? What are you even doing here?"

Wyatt shrugged. "Thought you might need me here."

"I appreciate the thought, Wy, but I'm fine. I just need to keep busy."

Leo rushed into the kitchen, his magic school robes billowing out behind him. He grabbed a mug from the cupboard, racing to the coffee pot and filling it up. He glanced over at his youngest son. "Chris, buddy, what are you doing up?"

"Going to school, and before you say it, Wyatt already gave me the big speech about how I should stay home and mourn for my dead girlfriend because apparently wallowing here is healthier than getting back to my life."

The father frowned, moving to put a hand on his son's shoulder. "Chris, you don't always have to be strong. Especially not after losing someone you loved so much."

"I need to keep busy, Dad. Period. So, can we please skip over the heartfelt moment, and just get on with our lives already?"

Leo looked momentarily hurt before glancing over at his older son. He shot the blond young man a silent plea to watch out for his sibling as it was clear Chris would have none of it from his parents right now. For whatever reason, Chris had always felt more comfortable being open with his brother.

Wyatt gave a subtle nod.

"If you need me, anytime at all, you just orb to me, and I will drop whatever I'm doing, got it?" Leo questioned his youngest.

Chris rewarded him with a weak smile. "Got it."

As their father rushed off, Chris shook his head. "Guess he's late again."

"Who in this family isn't always running late?"

The brunet smiled softly. "Yeah. No kidding."

A thought suddenly struck him. "Hey, Wy, where's Case?"

"Took the bus early this morning. Said she had some sort of project to finish up."

Finishing up his apple, Chris tossed the core into the garbage and started heading out. He was stopped in his tracks by his brother's voice calling for him to wait a moment. He turned to look back at his sibling, who was now standing behind him. "What?"

"What Dad said...it's true. You don't have to always be strong, Chris. You're allowed to feel the pain."

"No, I can't," Chris answered softly. "Because if I let myself...I'll go down a path I won't be able to come back from."

"I'd always bring you back. You're my baby brother. Who else would put up with my lame jokes and help me kick demon butt? I can't let anything happen to you."

"Thanks, Wy."

"So, you'll call if you need me?"

"Yeah."

The Twice Blessed ran a hand through his blond locks, awkwardly. "And, Chris, I mean, you know that I. . .well, you know."

Chris smiled, nodding slightly. "Yeah. Me too."

000

A pop quiz in his literature class, a lecture on post-colonial Africa in his histio-sociology class, a lab experiment with picks-her-nose Nelly Timmons who kept staring at him with mouth agape, and a Spanish test over subjunctive form. Chris was officially ready to slam his locker door into his head until he just blacked out.

Shoving his morning books into his locker, Chris wondered why it was when Casey spoke Spanish it was sexy and beautiful, but when the teacher did it was the sound of nails on a chalkboard combined with a crying baby. Perhaps it was because A. Mr. Bleeker was a balding man in his sixties and B. The guy was a jerk who often was heard talking about how much he missed corporal punishment.

Shutting his locker, Chris nearly jumped when he found Kip standing right on the other side of the door. He let out a breath. "Hey."

"Dude, I need words with you. Right now."

"Okay, what's up?"

"It's about Molly."

Chris sucked in his lips, nodding, waiting for the questions he was sure Kip had as well as the less than helpful words of sympathy everyone was always so quick to toss out.

"I ran into her at the park yesterday."

The witchlighter's eyes snapped up. "What?"

"Yeah. Which, you know, would be perfectly normally aside from the fact I just discovered _she's dead_."

Chris pulled Kip out of the hall, shooting nervous smiles in the directions of all confused on lookers. Once they were in the men's room, he made sure the place was empty before excitedly questioning, "Did she look okay?"

"Uh, Chris, buddy, pal, which part of _dead_ did you not quite catch? The 'd' or the 'ead'?"

"Kip, answer the question. How was she?"

"Well, as far as dead chicks go, she looked fine. Said to give you a message, which I thought was weird until I read the paper this morning and discovered I was playing medium."

Chris ran a hand through his shaggy chestnut locks, a smile forming. "So she said she was okay? Really?"

"Yeah, and to tell you something about her uncle Andy and his girlfriend...it started with a 'P'. It was kind of a strange name. Old I think"

"Uncle Andy?" Chris shook his head. "That doesn't make sense. She didn't have any uncles. Needless to say any named Andy. It must be the whitelighter training her. But why would she tell me the name? Unless...unless I would know it. Andy...Andy...what whitelighter would I know by that name?"

"Prue," Kip exclaimed. "That was it. Whew, took me a while, but I remembered."

"Holy shit. Prue? Are you serious?"

"If I was going to lie to you about this do you really think that'd be the detail I would choose to lie about?"

Chris shook his head in disbelief. "I can't believe this. Do you have any idea what this means?"

"You socialize with entirely too many dead people?"

"My Aunt was named Prue. She dated a detective named Andy. Tru... Trufax... True..."

"Trudeau, now I remember. The guy's name was Trudeau."

"The detective that saved my Mom and her sisters. She's with them. My Aunt and the detective are whitelighters. This is incredible."

Kip leaned against one of the sinks, folding his arms over his chest. "She said to tell you she loves you a lot and always will too, Man. Now, that I get what that was about, almost makes me teary. To think, you guys have been torn apart like this...makes me want to kick some Elder ass. I'm sure Jess would help."

"No," Chris firmly shook his head. "The only one going to kick some Elder ass is going to be me. Starting now."

As his friend orbed out of the bathroom, Kip saw a scrawny freshman walk into the room, the younger teen's eyes going wide at what he thought he saw. The telepath rolled his eyes, forcing the thought, _I just smoked crack. That's where the pretty lights came from. Yummy crack. Better go find more now. _

The freshman's face crinkled in confusion. He opened his mouth as though to ask the witch something when he just shook his head, turned around and left instead. 

Kip smirked. "I'm an evil Jedi."

Meanwhile, Chris found himself up in the heavens, having far less fun than his comrade.

"I mean it. Where are they?"

Sandra, long accustomed to Halliwell temper tantrums, smiled patiently. "Christopher, you know we can't tell you that."

"And why do I know that? More importantly, why should I care? I know how much it killed my mom that she couldn't see my Aunt Prue again. This whole time you have been keeping Prue from us– from my mom and aunts-- when you could have ended their grieving years ago. Now, now you want to tell me that you refuse to tell me where she is? Where Molly is?"

Kevin, a younger elder stepped forward, his face more sympathetic to the young witchlighter's plight. "Chris, I understand you love Molly. That you want to be with her. It's perfectly natural, and you have every right to be furious at us for keeping you two apart right now. However, there are things at work here, which you do not understand."

"So enlighten me."

Kevin shared a look with Sandra before carefully answering, "You both have different destinies for the moment. However, you will see her again. This is something we can promise you."

"I will?" Chris looked between the two Elders. When they both nodded, he pressed, "When?"

"We can't tell you that."

"This is crap," the young man exclaimed. "You can't do this to people. You can't play with our lives like this. I love her, okay? I love her, and I want her back right now. You hear me? Until you give me Molly back, I'll make sure no one in my family does anything for you people."

Kevin let out a breath. "I think we need someone better suited to deal with this."

Sandra nodded before closing her eyes and bending her head forward to call for the one person that might be able to talk the young Halliwell down from his hurt and rage.

"Chris?"

The witchlighter turned toward the source of the unfamiliar voice. His lips parted in baited breath as his eyes set sight on a woman he'd only ever seen in photos. After swallowing down the initial shock, he asked softly, "Aunt Prue?"

The dark haired woman smiled softly. "We need to talk."

000

Casey glanced through the cafeteria looking for Chris. Through the sea of students she was able to spot all sorts of different groups. The drama kids were in the left back corner, laughing and singing a tune from the musical. Jocks and cheerleaders were front left. The girls were giggling while two linebackers had a milk chugging contest. Over on the opposite side, the rich guys were actually associating with a few of the nerds in a virtual reality drive off using the digi-glasses and hand held controllers. Meanwhile, the rich girls were gabbing about the latest school gossip, in which Casey heard Molly's name come up a few times. Last but not least, the druggies and would be gang-bangers were in the right back corner by the windows playing poker.

No sign of Chris anywhere though.

Sighing, the young witch turned around and headed for the library. She was half-way there when she caught a shadow moving behind her and slightly to the left. She paused, glancing out her periphery in time to see the shadow also stop.

She was officially being followed.

Casey took a breath along with a sharp right. Keeping her pace natural, she made sure to keep the shadow in sight at all times as she made her way to the back of the school. She pushed open the large back doors that lead to the parking lot then stepped quickly off to the left side, waiting for her stalker to come through.

A minute passed. Then five.

No one came out after her.

The young woman rested her head against the cool brick wall. "Great. I'm going crazy."

She couldn't have known that the shadow figure had actually followed her out of the school and was now watching her, invisible to the eye. His own green pair never left her face. Too much was riding on his vigilance. He would never let her out of his sight again.

tbc. . .


	22. Out of My Hands

CHAPTER 22

Out of My Hands

For as long as Chris could remember, he'd heard stories of the legendary Prue Halliwell. His mother had made sure both he and his brother were well versed in the great deeds of their fallen aunt. She was the bravest, strongest, most determined woman in the world according to his mother. She was the epitome of what it meant to be a Halliwell. And right now, she was scowling at him. 

"Come with me," Prue instructed, taking hold of the young man's hand and orbing them both to another location before he could say a word one way or the other.

When they materialized at their new conversation spot, Chris immediately recognized the beach his aunt Phoebe had taken he and Wyatt a few times when they were kids. She said it was special, but Chris was too young to have cared about or remembered the reason now.

Prue dropped his hand, putting hers on her hips as she regarded the youth sharply. "You were causing quite the commotion up there."

"I had every reason to," Chris responded, more quietly than he normally would have. As nervous as he was, his eyes remained trained on her ice blue pair. "They took away a lot from us."

"Oh, trust me, _I_ know."

At the bitterness in her tone, the young man let his eyes slip away from hers and off to the ground to her left. He licked his lips and shoved his hands into his back pockets. "I'm sorry. For what it's worth."

"You look so much like Piper..."

The witchlighter hesitated a glance back at her.

"I get the feeling you have my stubborn streak, though," she added. "From what I've been able to tell from that scene up there, anyway."

Chris smiled softly, nodding in agreement. "Yeah. Mom's always saying I'm a male version of you. She misses you."

"I miss her too. And Phoebe. And Leo."

"And Aunt Paige?"

Prue's smile slipped. "I can't really miss someone I've never met. I can only miss the opportunity to have met them. Like you and your brother and Phoebe's kids. I can't believe Phoebe _has_ kids. I suppose she's grown up a lot, though. She was on her way to becoming such a strong woman."

"She is. She's inspiring. Really."

The corner of his aunt's mouth turned upward, her eyes shining. "I always knew Piper was going to make an amazing mom. Ever since that trip to the future when she had the little girl."

"Little girl?"

"Well, it turned out to be Wyatt instead."

Chris' brows rose. "Wait, wait. Wyatt was supposed to be a _girl_?"

"I get the feeling you plan on using that little piece of information against him?"

"Well, yeah."

Prue laughed softly. "Kid after my own heart."

A moment passed before Chris ventured to ask what was really on his mind. "Why didn't you ever come back? I mean, you sound like you miss your sisters. I know I'd miss Wyatt. So, how come you didn't orb on by. Let everyone know you were okay? Meet your really cool nephews and their somewhat amusing cousins?"

"I couldn't. It was against the rules."

"You sound like an Elder."

Prue raised a brow at him. "Watch it." She let out a breath. "It's complicated, Chris. More complicated than you could imagine. For starters, I couldn't be around at first because it would interfere with Paige coming into the picture. If I was still around, they wouldn't have learned to survive without me. To lean on Paige and become as close as they are. Then, well, then it just turned out that my destiny has changed. It belongs with training Molly, to prepare her for a very special charge."

"So, why don't you _both_ come back? Bring your boyfriend with. I don't understand why we all have to be apart. It's not right."

"No, it's not," the woman agreed. "But, it's a necessary evil right now. She's not ready to accept her destiny, and won't be if you're in the picture. You'll split her focus, and she can't handle that yet."

"I'll help her. I'm half-whitelighter. I could train her."

Prue smiled softly. "I know you think that, but it wouldn't work. You're too emotionally involved. Besides, destiny has other plans for you for the time being."

"Molly is my destiny."

"Not right now."

"What does that even mean?"

"She'll be back in your life, Chris. When the time is right. Be thankful this situation isn't permanent."

Chris set his jaw before looking out over the ocean. "When? When will we be back together?"

"I wish I could tell you, but it's not my place. It really all depends on Molly. When she's accepted her new life, and learned everything she can. She's already far more fortunate than most whitelighters because she will get to return someday. It's part of the reason the Elders refuse to back down on her adjustment period. I have to agree with them. It would be nearly impossible for her to learn her new place if she goes back to living her old life right away. It'll also be harder for her if she is so close to her mom. It'd be far too tempting for her to go see her mom, tell her everything, and you know how much trouble that would cause."

"Yeah, I guess..."

"Besides, the Elders feel your focus was getting split too much as it was. You have other obligations you need to attend to, Chris."

"Like what?"

Prue hedged before answering, "Protecting the baby, including the baby's mother. The Elders have been talking and apparently, someone knows the baby's going to be a factor in the end of the war between good and evil. This demon will stop at nothing to prevent it. You need to focus on finding and vanquishing the demon."

"And if I find this demon and vanquish it? Would that prove to the Elders I've still got my priorities straight? Will I get Molly back?"

"I don't have any fast, easy answers for you."

"But, if I do things their way, and she learns everything she needs to learn, you swear to me they'll let her come home?"

"You'll be in one another's lives. I promise."

Chris nodded, accepting the information given. After a moment, he looked up into his aunt's blue eyes and smiled shyly. "What about you?"

"My fate rests with yours. When Molly's ready, I'll be able to come home too. Though, since you already know about me, you're allowed to have contact with me. Call my name, and I'll meet you."

"But I'm not allowed to tell Mom any of this, am I?"

Prue shook her head, her eyes dropping. "No. Not anyone."

"Why? I don't understand."

"Yes, you do. If they knew about me, they'd look for me, come for me. I can't be distracted like that, and neither can Molly. We have a limited amount of time to prepare her for a very important role."

"What role?"

"You know I can't answer that yet."

"This sucks."

"Totally sucks," Prue agreed.

"I can't even see her just once? Just to say goodbye?"

"It wouldn't ever be just goodbye, and you know it."

"You swear to me she's okay? That you'll take good care of her for me?"

Prue nodded, crossing her heart. "I swear on Piper's life."

Chris bit his lip, trying to process what he needed to accept. After a moment to let the idea sink in, to calm his rapidly re-breaking heart, he nodded. "Okay. Just, please tell her something for me?"

"Of course."

"Tell her I love her, and I'll be waiting for her."

000

Two-thirty. The school day was officially over. Teenagers of all shapes, sizes and kinds were nigh on running out the doors, talking over one another creating a cacophony of word gibberish. Casey imagined if one were to get a bird's eye view of the front doors, all of the teenagers piling out would look like a wild herd of horses, galloping towards freedom.

She was not galloping or running or in any sort of hurry whatsoever. Mostly because the only place she had to be was Charmed, starting her first day back at work, which scared her to death. She hadn't been in a kitchen for a year– not in the fast paced, hot, high stress kind anyway. Not to mention, Chef Richards had always hated her. Facing him again wasn't something she was looking forward to. If he wasn't the best chef in San Francisco, the young witch was certain Piper would have fired him long ago.

Casey was walking to the restaurant. It was a fairly nice day out aside from the blistering cold winds that shot through her skin and into her bones now and again, but she didn't mind the cold. It made her feel rejuvenated. Besides, the restaurant was only about ten blocks away, and she had decided it would be a good time to soul search, really sort out her thoughts about what was happening to her life.

The idea had been good. If only for one problem. Demons didn't really care if you wanted alone time to meditate on the twists and turns of life's roads. They were just happy you were cut off from the pack. Which was exactly why Milash attacked her.

The Vetala had taken on a new form– a taller dark skinned brute demon. So, as soon as he had been able to track her down as per Zayel's orders, he shimmered in front of her, grabbing hold of her arms to stop her from trying to use her power and holding them with all the super human strength his new meat suit afforded.

Casey cried out in both surprise at the attack and the pain in her arms his fierce grip was causing. On instinct, she brought both her feet up to kick the demon in the gut, which caused his grip to loosen. She nearly toppled over as the support she'd been getting from his hold on her vanished. Luckily, she regained her footing and made a break for it.

Unluckily, her attacker managed to recover quickly and shimmered back in front of her. He reached out to grab her, but she ducked out of the way, turning on her heel and zipping to the other direction.

Flicking out her hand behind her, she watched in frustration as he kept coming toward her. "Damn it. _Work_."

"You've been a major pain," Milash informed her as he shimmered in front of her one more time. There was no escaping his grip this time, though. He wrapped one arm around her waist and the other around her neck, holding her firm. He went on talking as she struggled in his grasp. "I didn't get to eat a thing today because your little friend figured me out, and Zayel was so mad he threw all my snacks out. He told me the only thing I would get to eat would be you. But you were always around so many people till now. My stomach hurts it's so empty."

"Chr– !"

Milash clamped one of his hands over her mouth, stopping her cry. "Don't go doing that. Then, I have to fight. I don't like fighting. Especially on an empty stomach. Just hold still, okay? I'd do it for you..."

Out of thin air a young man appeared wearing a plain green military style jacket, a red long sleeved shirt and blue jeans. His dark brown hair was jagged coming down over his ears, his bangs, split down the middle, still fell into his sharp green eyes as he set his sights on the demon.

"I got here first," Milash remarked, pulling Casey to him, using her as a shield. "Go find your own."

The young man set his jaw. Then, without a word, closed his eyes, his head falling forward.

"Is he going Zen?" the demon wondered aloud.

He got his answer a moment later when he saw another image of the young man appear on his left side. Before Milash could even jump in surprise, which he would have done, the new comer leaped directly into the demon's body.

As soon as the copy of the stranger had entered Milash's corpse, the hands around Casey fell, and she moved from his grasp, watching in shock and amazement as the demon began to jerk and hiss until finally a billow of smoke left the corpse, which fell to the ground leaving the copy of the young man standing in its place.

The young man's projection looked toward the smoke cloud and reached out for it, trying to take hold of it, but it dissipated too quickly. Milash had escaped again.

Her rescuer turned his gaze to the young woman, his green eyes going soft for a split second before hardening over like cement. When he spoke, it was almost clinical. "Are you hurt?"

"No. Thanks to you, I'm fine. I've gotta say, that was pretty impressive."

The stranger flushed slightly.

Casey moved forward, smiling softly at the man responsible for saving her. "I'm Casey. What's your name?"

He seemed to hesitate a moment before replying, "You need to go to the hall of records and look up the name Marshal Bannon. Find the body. Salt and burn it. It's the only way you're going to get that Vetala off your back."

Casey blinked, surprised. "Uh...okay. So, I take it I don't get to know my hero's name?"

"No."

Then, he disappeared leaving the rescued woman to wonder just who the stranger was, and what was going on.

000

Wyatt's day had started off on a shaky note with Chris only to get immediately worse when he got out of the shower to find a message from Molly's mother on the house phone. The poor woman nearly broke down on their answering machine as she attempted to tell Chris the funeral for Molly would be this up coming Sunday at one. Heart wrenching was too mild to describe how hearing the woman's broken tone made the young witchlighter feel. Sickened to his core, he'd almost picked up the phone to call her back and let her know her daughter wasn't really entirely gone, but actually a supernatural angel who was out in the world helping others. He'd have said anything he could have thought of in order to give the suffering mother some sort of small comfort. In the end, he realized comfort for a grieving mother is impossible to find.

Which, might have been the reason the Twice Blessed decided it was a good idea to focus on a different mother. Or rather, future mother.

Ever since he'd told Casey what Phoebe had seen and heard in her premonition, the young man had felt fairly certain his old friend had been living in complete and total denial. She refused to talk about the possibility she might be pregnant. Any time he tried to bring it up, she'd change the subject or find a reason to leave suddenly. She hadn't even bothered to buy a test yet.

Which was why the Twice Blessed currently found himself in a drug store in an aisle he was exceedingly uncomfortable being in. He had to know for sure, and if she wasn't mentally prepared to go out and buy the test, he'd buy it. Maybe, it would snap her out of it, and she'd finally realize how very real their problem might be.

Wyatt picked up one box. Looked over the back, read the instructions, and promptly put it back, wrinkling his nose as he did so. He picked up another one, looking it over. It wouldn't work for another week. He put it back.

"May I help you with something, Young Man?"

The Twice Blessed turned to find the paragon of Grandmothers now standing to his right. Her shiny silver hair was in a bun on the top of her head, her gold rimmed glasses were seated on the edge of her nose, and a little light twinkled in her grey-blue eyes.

"I'm...I– uh– I need one of these," he oh-so- eloquently stated, gesturing vaguely at the lines of pregnancy tests. He shook his head. "I mean, not _me_ obviously, but I have to get one. For someone else."

"Of course," she remarked, a knowing look in her aged eyes. "Perhaps, for a friend?"

"Yeah."

"All right then. Did your– ahem– friend tell you about how long until the young lady is due for her cycle?"

Wyatt pulled a face. "God no. I don't know that. I don't _want_ to know that."

The elderly woman chuckled softly. "Ah, no. I suppose not. How about how long ago the sexual act took place?"

"Less than a week."

"Okay, then we'll need the newest model. It's an at home blood test, and is by far the most highly advanced. It can actually tell if a woman is pregnant mere days afterward. It's also got a ninety-eight percent accuracy rating. However, it is fairly pricey."

"How much?"

"Thirty-three."

"Dollars?"

"If it's too much, you could always wait another week or so. The costs would drop considerably."

Wyatt shook his head. "No, this is too life-altering to wait any longer. I need to know. I mean, my friend needs to know."

"Certainly."

Thirty-three dollars and odd change later, the Twice Blessed had purchased himself the markets most sophisticated at home pregnancy test after what amounted to a mild awkward moment. He had just placed the expensive device (as he was now prone to calling it) into the passengers seat with as much care as one might set down an egg, when his cell phone started playing the latest hit song.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Wyatt," Casey's voice came through the other end. "I need you to do something for me."

"Likewise."

"Okay, then, you do mine, and I'll do yours. Fair?"

"Sure. What's up?"

"I was just attacked by the Vetala again– "

"– What? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. Really. Not a scratch. Some guy saved me. It was weird actually, but anyway, he said to look up the name Marshal Bannon at the Hall of Records in order to find the body. Apparently, in order to get rid of the Vetala we need to find Bannon's body, salt and burn the sucker. I would do it myself, but I'm scheduled to work tonight. So, think you could check it out?"

"Sure, but how do you know mystery boy was telling the truth?"

"Don't, but I figure if he saved my life, he obviously isn't working for the other team. What do we really have to lose?"

"Depends on who the heck this new guy is."

"Yeah, we'll figure that out next. So, what was it you wanted me to do for you?"

Wyatt glanced over at the little white package resting on the other seat. "I bought a test."

"Test?" A beat. "Oh. Isn't it kind of early for that?"

"No. I got a really new one. It's soon enough, and I need to know. Don't you?"

"I'm running really late, Wy. I'm gonna have to go. I'll take care of it when I get back. Bye."

Holding in a sigh of frustration, he replied, "See you later."

000

As Casey walked into the kitchen of Charmed, she was more than a little surprised to find Chris there, already dressed in his uniform and merely tying up his apron. When he finished, he looked up to find his friend giving him a shocked look and shrugged. "Someone was sick. I always work when someone's sick."

"I don't know if you've realized this, but you do kind of know the owner, and she'd probably let you off considering. They can find someone else."

"I don't want off. I want to keep as busy as possible."

Casey nodded, offering a weak smile. "Fair enough."

"Better go get changed. Richards wants a quick meeting before the dinner shift starts."

Five minutes later, Casey came back out of the lady's room dressed for work. Her white shirt and black slacks were crisp, the apron around her waist tied twice around and knotted. Her dark mahogany hair was in a sloppy ponytail as she took her place next to Chris in the line up of the night's workers.

Richards entered a moment later, the grey haired forty-something looking rigid as he marched in front of them like a drill sergeant. His dark brown eyes landed on Casey, and he paused in his pacing. "Alvarez. I'd heard you were coming back. You look lovely."

"Thank you, Chef," she replied before shooting a questioning look at Chris, who merely shrugged.

"Now, tonight, things are going to be a little different. I will not put up with mistakes tonight, People. We have a critic from the Bay Mirror here, and if things go well, it could boost sales tremendously. So, there will be no errors on line. All will be perfectly plated, dishes perfection on the palate. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Chef," all chorused.

"Alvarez, you'll obviously be back on your specialty. I hope to really impress with those desserts tonight. Don't let me down."

"I won't, Chef."

"Halliwell," Richards directed, "As Malcolm is ill, I'm going to need you to take over the appetizer station tonight."

"Yes, Chef."

"Let's move, People."

An hour into service and food was flying out of the kitchen. Most of the restaurant had already been served their main courses and were starting on dessert. Time for the chefs in the kitchen was non-existent, a blur of pots, pans and plates. A good chef normally doesn't even have to think when he or she is on the line, in their element. The dishes almost make themselves.

For, Chris, tonight was not one of those nights. Every few minutes he had to snap himself out of distracting thoughts in order to make sure he was timing things correctly, and seasoning everything before sending it out. Every step of the process was so much harder simply because he wasn't focused on the food. He was focused on the pain squeezing his heart every time he thought of Molly, every time her face popped into his mind's eye.

"Where's my two lobster bisque and risotto for table thirty?" Richards called out.

Chris poured the bisque into two white bowls, cleaning up any broth spilled on the rim with a cloth. "Risotto in half a minute."

"I need it now, Halliwell."

The young witchlighter turned around to pull the risotto off the stove. It wasn't until the searing pain ripped through his hand that he realized he'd just grabbed it bare handed. He gave a sharp yowl of pain, dropping the skillet back onto the stove top with a clank, grabbing his already blistering hand.

"What the hell did you do, now, Halliwell?"

"I'm fine, Chef."

Richards rolled his eyes. "You're clearly not fine; you've burned your damn hand like some cook fresh to a kitchen. Get it together, Halliwell, you're supposed to be a Sous Chef. What kind of an ass grabs a hot skillet with his bare hands, huh? Use your brain."

"Back off," Casey shot back. "He came in to cover for your sorry ass, even though he's lost someone he loved, so if you talk to him like that again, I swear I will make sure every cook in this place walks out on you tonight."

A chorus of whistles and cheers went up through the kitchen.

Richards glared around the kitchen, knowing full well the kind of influence both she and Halliwell had with the others. He let out a breath. "Get that risotto, then take him to the back and fix up his hand."

"Yes, Chef."

"It just needs to be plated," Chris informed her, running cool water over his hand.

Casey quickly placed the appetizer onto a plate, took it up to the pass, then grabbed Chris by the arm and lead him to the back office. Climbing up on a chair, she reached up to the top shelf and pulled down the first aid kit. With the kit in hand, she got back down and gestured for Chris to take a seat.

"Thanks for that back there," the young man started, "it means a lot, you sticking up for me like that."

She rolled her soft brown eyes at him. "Don't be stupid. I'm always going to have your back. Now, give me that hand."

He extended the curled up red blister that used to be his hand. He cringed as his friend sprayed on the burn ointment, which almost seemed to bubble on contact with his fevered palm. "Shit, ow."

His friend smiled softly before raising his hand up to her mouth and blowing on it gently.

Chris closed his eyes, the cool wave of air over the burn felt wonderful, the sting immediately dissipating.

When he opened his eyes, he saw the soft look of her face as she tended to him. The way her eyes were glowing in the dim light of the one working lightbulb; how wonderfully pink her lips looked as they formed the tiny circle the air was escaping from. She really was quite stunning in this moment.

Casey paused, looking up at him just then. She hadn't realized how close they were in the cramped back office. Her face was much nearer to his than she was comfortable with. Especially when his gaze was focused on her. In that moment, she noticed a strange look in his eyes as well. It was penetrating, yet slightly dreamy at the same time.

Before she knew what she was doing, Casey found herself leaning toward him, her lips brushing against his, relishing the moist, soft feel of them against her own. She'd missed the feel of Chris, the taste of him. She'd just missed him, and wanted nothing more than to be with him.

But, she couldn't.

Pulling away, a horrified look on her face, Casey shook her head helplessly. "Oh my God. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

As Chris sat on the chair dumbstruck, cradling his burned hand against his chest, he watched as his best friend bolted out the door, and as she left him sitting there, he was certain of only one thing.

He didn't care about his hand anymore.

tbc. . .


	23. Peace of Mind

CHAPTER 23

Peace of Mind

As Chris scrubbed down his station for the night, his eyes slid over to where Casey was finishing upher own work while talking to one of the other cooks, Josh, about something or other. Her back was purposefully to Chris, and right now, the young man was kind of glad. 

If it had been anyone else, _any_one else in the entire world, Chris wouldn't have been bothered by the kiss she'd laid on him in the back room. He would have just blown it off. He would have told her under no uncertain terms he loved his girlfriend, and while Molly wasn't around right now, it didn't mean he loved her any less. Molly was it. Period. This _any_ other girl was nothing.

It wasn't just anyone though. It was Casey. The one girl in the world who had ever simultaneously made him want to shake her as hard as he could and hold her close and never let go. She drove him crazy. Sometimes it was a good crazy, sometimes bad. Through it all, she'd always been his best friend. She was not, nor never would be nothing to him.

The kiss was not nothing.

Placing the last of his supplies back, Chris let out a breath, staring down at the counter top. His gaze grew unfocused as he stared at the light reflecting on the shiny white surface. His mind drifted off completely as he continued gazing on the bright spot of the counter.

_"Batman or Superman?" Casey's voice floated down from the past. _

Chris, leaning back on one hand, looked down at the face currently resting in his lap. She was grinning up at him while he absently played with her silky hair. "Batman."

"How come?"

"Superman has almost no weaknesses. I figure, you can't be a real hero unless you have something to truly fear. A green glowing rock doesn't cut it for me. I want serious life-threatening danger all the time. Batman is just a regular guy, so he seems like a real hero."

Casey picked up one of her home-made chocolate covered cherries from the dish on her right side. She held it up to her lover's mouth, smiling contentedly as he slowly, teasingly wrapped his lips around it and removed the proffered treat from her fingers while lightly sucking the fleshy, sensitive tips.

She closed her eyes in pleasure, relishing the shivers from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes and everywhere in between. When she opened her eyes she noticed the self-satisfied smirk on his face and decided to ignore the desire to jump him where he lay. Instead, she asked, "We have powers. Are we not real heroes?"

Chris, licking the residual chocolate from his lips, paused to think his answer over carefully. "I think so. I mean, we have powers, but so do the bad guys. And normal stuff will hurt us. We aren't invincible."

The young woman sat up, quirking a brow at him. "You're not invincible?" she asked in mock shock.

"Nah, I'll leave that to Wyatt." He grinned, "After all, I like being a real_ hero." _

"Not nice picking on poor Wy when he's not even here to defend himself."

"Defending my brother now, are we?"

Casey shrugged, her eyes still glinting with trouble. "Well, he does have all those sexy muscles..."

"Oh, hell no," Chris announced just before pouncing.

He pushed the girl onto the ground, tickling her mercilessly until she was out of breath. Then, just when she'd finally been granted a reprieve, now able to inhale long, deep ragged breaths, he leaned over her, slipping his hand under her and pulling her up to him. He stared straight into her coffee colored eyes upping the intensity before kissing her.

Releasing her from the steamy embrace, he shot her a cocky grin. "Who's the sexy one, now?"

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, she pushed him backwards until he was on his back. Then, with a deliberate slowness, unzipped her blue sweater, and moved on top of him, looking down at him with her doe brown eyes before pulling off his shirt and kissing her way up his chest to his mouth, which she claimed with undeniable passion. A hand slid up his thigh to the button of his jeans, which she got open with deft fingers.

The young man moaned in expectation.

Which was when she slowly, teasingly pulled away from his lips, giving him a cocky grin of her own. "Figure it out yet?"

"If I say yes, will you finish what you started?"

Chris shook his head, attempting to clear it of the memory. His eyes slid over to her work station, but found she was no longer there.Frowning, he caught hold of Josh's arm just as the other was about to clock out. "Hey, where'd Casey go?" 

"Left. I think I saw your brother pick her up. It was kinda weird...I didn't see his car."

"Probably didn't notice it because he took mine. I walked," the witchlighter smoothly lied.

"Oh, well do you need a ride home? You live kinda far from here don't you?"

Chris shook his head. "I'll grab a taxi. Thanks though."

"Ok. See you later."

As the Halliwell watched the other boy disappear off to the back office, he couldn't help but wonder what he would do when he got home tonight. He needed to let Casey down gently. He still loved Molly, and that wasn't going to change. He had to tell her the kiss wasn't going to happen ever again. It would be like betraying Molly, and he could not and would not do that.

The only problem was the swarm of emotions the one kiss had caused to come flooding back. His and Casey's history was long, complicated, and full of love. Not to mention despite his firm denial, the fire still crackled between them. It explained why no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't get the one, tiny kiss out of his head.

"Never again," he murmured. 

000

"Thanks for giving me an orb home, Wyatt," Casey said as she hung her coat up in the closet.

"Sure. No problem. Just don't really understand why you couldn't have had Chris do it. I know he went in tonight."

"It's complicated."

Wyatt nodded knowingly. His soft blue eyes dropped to the floor. "Do I want to know?"

"I doubt it."

"Did you sleep with him?"

Every feature of the young woman's face was filled with startled shock as the question hit her. For a moment she was so stunned by the bluntness of it, she couldn't form any words. After a moment to process the fact he had actually said what he'd said, she replied, "God, no. No way. How could you think I would do that? He _just_ lost the woman he loves. It would be a slap in the face to her memory. Or rather, to her, since she's still out there somewhere."

"So, what happened?"

Casey bit her lip, looking sheepish. "I did sort of...I kissed him."

"And that's not a slap in the face to her?"

The young woman winced. "I deserve that. I do. God, it was stupid. It was so stupid." She started walking into the conservatory, gesturing with her hands while she spoke. " I don't know what came over me. I was bandaging his hand, and he was staring at me, and I don't know. It just happened. It was like my brain shut off, and the next thing I know I'm kissing him. I mean, there wasn't tongue or anything, just a nice soft kiss..."

"I _really_ don't need the details," Wyatt cut in, following her into the other room.

"Sorry. Shit. I am just on a real roll tonight aren't I? I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"No, it's not. It's really not. I don't want to hurt you. Or him. I don't want to hurt anyone. I just want to...I don't even know what I want anymore. Just not this. Because this?" She flopped down on the love seat in the conservatory."This sucks."

"Can't argue with that," Wyatt agreed, sitting next to her.

Without thinking she leaned her head on his shoulder. "I miss when we were kids. Everything was so simple then. Back then the worst thing we had to deal with were demons." She looked up into the other teen's face. "I would so trade this mess for a good old fashioned demon."

"I know what you mean."

"He must hate me."

"I doubt that."

Casey sat up. "Seriously. I _kissed_ him. What kind of an insensitive bitch does that make me? He's mourning, for crying out loud."

"It was a mistake. You guys have been close for a really long time. You've been holding all your feelings for him in, and sooner or later, it was bound to get out. The timing wasn't the best, but it happened, and you can't change it. Chris won't hate you, though. He couldn't. Besides, no guy is going to complain about a beautiful woman kissing him."

"You didn't even plan it."

Wyatt frowned. "What?"

"The line. Beautiful woman. You just said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world."

The Twice Blessed flushed slightly. "To me it is..."

Casey saw the young man differently in that moment. Instead of the all powerful Twice Blessed or even the over-protective big brother type he'd always been, he was just a young man. A young man with a very gentle spirit, whose eyes reflected the deepest adoration whenever their blue gaze found her face. He was a man in love; a little awkward and unsure of himself when in her presence, but confident in his feelings for her. In that moment, she realized what this most powerful being's greatest weakness was– her.

"I looked up Marshal Bannon," he said, changing the subject. "It was a tragic story actually. From the reports I dug up, he, his parents and baby sister were all killed in what appeared to be a demonic attack. It mentioned scorch marks on some of the walls. I figure that's a pretty dead giveaway."

She couldn't stop staring at him. She'd always known he had feelings for her. It had been obvious, but never this intense, never like she was the one to make the sun rise and fall. No one had ever looked at her like that before. . .

Wyatt, noticing her intense gaze, shifted nervously, running a hand through his blonde locks. "So, uh, anyway, everyone else's bodies were buried in a local cemetery, but this Marshal guy's disappeared from the scene. The police never found it. You should have seen the pictures though. Horrendous stuff. The little sister was brutalized. The parents' throats were slit. I can only imagine what happened to Marshal himself. No wonder the guy went psycho ghost– if some demon did that to my family, and it went unpunished, I'd probably get a little homicidal too."

When they had been six and eight respectively, Casey distinctly remembered Wyatt being the one to teach her how to whistle. He'd been so patient with her, trying to explain it over and over again. Even then he'd looked at her with those soft blue eyes, the gentle gaze like warm sunlight pouring through a stained-glass window.

"Casey? You getting any of this?"

Her eyes shot up to his. "Yeah. Sorry. Demon murdered the Vetala's family, which is how he wound up being one in the first place. Body missing. Good stuff."

"Okay. . .since I did yours. . ." Wyatt took a breath. "Maybe. . .you could. . .?"

"Right. The test."

"Yeah."

Wyatt orbed the kit into his hands, opened the box and set a plastic cup and a bottle of special chemical solution down on the coffee table in front of them. He opened the bottle and poured the clear liquid into the cup. When it was completely full, he pulled out the packaged needle and pouch of rubbing alcohol wipes. Cleaning the needle thoroughly he turned to Casey. "Okay, I just need a finger."

"You're going to poke my finger with a needle?" She pulled a face. "Can't I just pee on a stick or something?"

"That's so twenty years ago. Just give me your hand. It's the latest thing."

"I hate needles."

"Yet, you cut your palm with an athame for potions..."

"Necessary evil. Besides, I said I hate _needles_ not double edged blades."

Wyatt rolled his eyes. "Yes, because those are so much less painful. Just give me your hand."

Casey squeezed her eyes shut, extending her hand and turning her head the other way while whimpering quietly in expectation. As soon as he poked her she hissed. "Aaaaa. Ow."

"Come on, that didn't hurt."

She opened her eyes and scowled. "Oh, yeah? Then, give me the needle and let me have a go at your finger. See how much fun you have."

"It was just a prick."

"I'm bleeding aren't I? Bleeding signals pain. Blood should stay inside. It's whole point is to stay _inside._ Outside it does no good."

"I remind you again– you do it all the time for potions."

"No, someone else does it to me for potions and usually after I've had a shot of something first."

The witchlighter gently put her finger over the cup and squeezed out three drops of blood. Noting every cringe she made, Wyatt, without thinking, did the first thing that came to mind. He put her finger gently in his mouth and lightly sucked on it.

"Don't let me interrupt," a new voice curtly announced.

Wyatt glanced up to find Chris, newly arrived back home, arms over his chest, giving them a less than pleased look. He immediately released said finger, and smiled anxiously. "Chris...hi. We were just...her finger was bleeding..."

Casey, flushed, lowered her face, staring at her lap.

"Why was she bleeding?"

"Test," the older brother pointed to the cup. "Turns dark purple she's pregnant. If nothing happens she's not."

Chris, his eyes instantly locked on the cup, asked, "How long till it's done?"

"Should be instantaneous."

Casey ventured to look at the cup. Her mouth fell open. She turned to Wyatt. "Then, if it's instantaneous that means..."

"You're not pregnant," Chris finished for her.

"Oh, thank God," the young woman breathed. She turned to Wyatt, a large smile plastered on her face. "This is incredible. We're out of the woods, Wy. This is great."

Wyatt smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Yeah. It's great."

"I've got to tell Jess."

As Casey dashed up the stairs to call her best friend with the news, Chris was left to deal with his brother. The younger boy recognized immediately that all was not as it seemed. Letting out a breath, he took a seat next to his brother on the small couch. "Want to talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about it seems."

"Bullshit."

"What?"

"Wyatt, I've known you my entire life. You aren't even a good liar, so you have no chance of convincing me you didn't want this to turn out differently. My question is: Why?"

The blond leaned back in his seat, his eyes looking up at the ceiling as he let out a long breath. "I don't know. After everyone was so convinced she was going to have my baby, I guess I just. . .I started thinking about it. Really thinking about what it would be like to have a baby with her. It would have been something to connect us forever, and we would have bonded and been parents together."

Chris gave his sibling a knowing look. "You thought it might get her to fall in love with you. Her carrying your child would have made her feel more connected to you, and eventually, you would win her heart, right?"

"Maybe. But, it's more than that. I actually sort of. . .I think I would have been a good dad."

"You will be someday."

"I saw this little baseball uniform for a newborn. I almost bought it." Wyatt shook his head. "I should be relieved my life isn't over. I can finish college and do everything I ever wanted. I just. . .I started to fall for the idea."

Chris put his hand on his sibling's shoulder. "This really is for the best, Man. You've got so many other things to do before you get saddled down with a kid. But, you'll have one or two or a zillion someday. It'll happen for you, and it will be with a woman who loves you– not someone you have to convince to love you."

"Thanks."

"I found out from the Elders Molly will be coming back into our lives someday."

Wyatt smiled softly. "That's great. Did they say when?"

"No, but it doesn't matter. Knowing there's still hope for us...I can wait however long I need to."

The Twice Blessed stared down at the coffee table. He took a deep breath before proposing the thoughts on his mind. "Chris, the Elders aren't exactly the most helpful of informers. I mean, vague doesn't even cover it. They can purposefully bend things to get our family off their backs. When they say she might be back, it could be a week, a month, a year. Or twenty-five years."

"I have to have hope, Wy."

"I'm not saying you shouldn't. I'm just saying. . .waiting might not be the healthiest of approaches. Just, don't stop living your life. Molly wouldn't want you to. She'd want you to take whatever opportunities come your way instead of staying frozen in time while you wait indefinitely for her."

"I will wait for her."

"Just promise me, you'll keep your options open too? Colleges and maybe even dating sometime in the distant future?"

Chris opened his mouth to argue then reunited his lips at the last moment. He knew his brother was right. A balance was the best way to go. He would live day by day, taking what life threw at him, but he would always be holding onto the promise of Molly's return.

"I have to tell you something," Wyatt began, "and I'm not sure how to."

"Just tell me."

"Molly's mom called this afternoon."

"And?"

"She wanted to let you know the," the older brother stumbled, unable to say the word, knowing how it would rip his brother's heart open.

Chris smiled bitterly, filling in the blank. "Funeral. She wanted to tell me about my girlfriend's funeral? What did she say?"

"Sunday. One o'clock."

"Okay."

"I'm sorry."

"Me too."

The younger of the two rose to his feet, immediately pacing. "I need to find the Vetala. I need to find him and kill him. Now."

"He was a guy named Marshal Bannon. Intel says we need to find his body, salt and burn it. It will release his spirit or something like that. Only problem is no one knows where the body wound up."

"We need the body, huh? I have an idea..."

000

The stranger slammed the door of the apartment shut behind him. Letting out a growl of frustration he threw himself down on the white sofa in the middle of the room. Picking up a pillow, he buried his face into it and screamed.

"What happened?"

The young man looked up at the woman who was now standing behind him. "They're impossible. I don't know how we're going to fix this mess. I swear, when I get my hands on Zayel, I'm not only going to vanquish him, I'm going to freeze him during the moment of his death and relish every moment of his extra torment."

"Not really a very good attitude to have."

"Don't go all whitelighter on me. Not now. Not when my very existence is on the brink."

The full figured woman took a seat next to the distraught youth. Brushing his bangs from his eyes, she focused her hazel intently on his green. "You'll be fine."

"No, I won't. I just got back from some recon, and guess what our friend Zayel has gathered the ingredients for? Just guess. No? Well, I'll tell you. A love potion. He's planning on using a love potion on them, to completely eradicate the future as we know it."

"You're sure?"

"I saw that stupid ass minion of his gathering everything you'd need for a supernatural aphrodisiac. If he wasn't partially an innocent, I'd vanquish him myself."

"You know, love potions only work if the love is already there."

The young man shot her a look.

"Oh. Right."

"We have to do something. I can't just sit back and do nothing."

"Any move you make risks changing things, possibly even causing the very thing we're trying to prevent."

"Molly, I love you, but right now, I have to do things my way."

The future Molly Vettle watched in frustration as her charge went up in a swirl of orb lights. Letting out a breath, she muttered,"Lucky, sometimes you are too much like your father."

tbc. . .


	24. Trying Times

CHAPTER 24  
**Trying Times**

After so many years looking over and guiding Lucas Halliwell, Molly believed she knew the young man better than just about anyone. She had been there the day he was born, the day he first took a step, first banged his head after a tumble, first words (they'd been 'mama up'), his first grounding, his first lost tooth, the harsh truth that Santa was actually his father sneaking downstairs in the middle of the night stumbling with an armful of presents. She'd been present for his darkest sorrow and his highest triumph. She loved him with a fierceness unmatched by all save one. No one could dare tell her she didn't know the essence of this young man.

It was for this very reason, she didn't immediately panic when the youth orbed from her sight, off to vanquish a demon far smarter and more powerful than any he'd dealt with in the future. She knew what would happen. Never doubted it.

So, with a newspaper in hands, peering over the obituary to see what they'd written about her (she hadn't had the stomach to know the first time she lived during this time) she didn't bother to look up as the sound of jingles tickled her ears. "So...how did it go?"

"Don't talk to me like that."

"Like what?" Molly asked, casually flipping to the next page to see if her death had been printed on it.

The brooding youth flopped down into the oversized chair next to the sofa, his jaw set and eyes dark. "I'm not a kid."

"Never said you were."

Interesting. They'd called her gifted and compassionate. Sounded like her mother's words. Certainly nothing her teachers would have claimed.

"It was the tone."

"Oh. The tone," she mimicked.

Sunday at one o'clock. If the news report on the back page had been right it was supposed to be raining then. Somehow it seemed fitting for a funeral. It would mask the tears she was sure people were going to be crying. Part of her wondered if it would be wrong to go to her own funeral. Chris always claimed to have kept his tears private. She always thought he was lying.

"You can't mock me," her charge erupted. "Whitelighters are not supposed to mock. They are supposed to guide and protect and support. No where in the whitelighter code book does it say anything about you making fun of me."

Molly finally raised her hazel eyes to look into his face. "Sweetie, I'm not making fun of you. Nor do I consider you a kid. You're almost a man."

"Almost but not quite," he grumbled. "I helped save the fate of good magic, but I still have a curfew. You should talk to Dad for me about that. I mean, how am I supposed to go on saving the world if I have to be home by eleven?"

"Just on school nights."

The young man rolled his jade eyes. "Whatever. Demons don't care about school nights."

"You don't have to worry about demons. We solved that problem."

"Which is why we're sitting here in the past, right? Because demons aren't a problem?"

"Don't get smart with me, Lucky."

"Sorry, Molly."

"Better." She set down the paper. "We're here to keep the problem gone. Zayel saw something he should not have seen, and we're merely here as a precaution. To protect your mother and mini-you."

Lucky sighed, leaning back and putting his hand to his forehead. "I know. That minion attacked her earlier."

"You didn't tell me that."

"Didn't think you'd react well."

"She saw you, didn't she?"

"More to the point," Lucky replied, "I saw her."

Molly leaned forward. "Are you all right?"

"Don't wanna talk about it."

"Okay. I understand."

The young man took a deep breath before putting both hands behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. "I went looking for Zayel, like I said I wanted to, but I knew I couldn't do anything. I mean, if I were to go down there and vanquish him, it would change things. Plus, if some random witch went down into the underworld, it would draw attention. The fewer demons that know about me, the better, right? So, I'm back. Ready to get back to watching."

"I know how hard this is for you."

"We're not talking about it," Lucky reiterated, shooting her a look. "Anyway, I figure she's at the manor, so she's safe from physical attack for now."

"And the love potion?"

"See, that's where I'm at a loss. I would watch over her at the manor, but you know I'd get caught. Invisibility doesn't exactly work so well when the most powerful witches in the world are involved."

"We can't risk your mother sleeping with the wrong brother though. It would erase your very existence."

Lucky cringed. "Many neurosis. Many levels. Need shrink..."

Molly smiled lightly. "It's not like you didn't know she had relationships with both. After all, how do you think you got here in the first place?"

"I plead the fifth. It's disturbing thinking about your parents doing that thing. It's one-hundred times worse when you can think about your mom participating in those kind of activities with both your dad and your uncle."

"Okay, we still need to prevent the wrong thing– as you put it– from happening. Despite your obvious qualms with the concept. Any ideas?"

"We could kidnap my uncle."

"A. Easier said than done. B. The rest of the family would notice, and it would distract them away from hunting down Zayel. Not to mention they would hunt us down, blow our cover and ruin our chances of protecting your mother. Oh, and if your parents are too busy trying to find us, they won't have time for sex."

Lucas wrinkled his nose. "There's that word again."

"Oh, good grief."

The young man suddenly smiled. Molly recognized it from the many times it had appeared on his father's face; it meant trouble. Some sort of wild idea had sprung into the youth's mind, crawling into the crevices and burying themselves deep. It was both good and bad. Good because normally, these crazy ideas always managed to work. Bad because they almost always came with some sort of consequence.

"I think it's time for retaliation."

"Why do I distinctly dislike the sound of this, Lucas?"

"I'm going to need a cauldron."

"Why. . .?"

"I'm going to make my own love potion, and beat the demons' at their own game."

000  
Seventeen years of hunting demons, casting spells and creating potions. Seventeen years living under the tutelage of the most powerful witches the world had ever known. Seventeen years of guidance under the gentle wing of a former Elder. What exactly did these seventeen years amount to in just this precise moment?

"Squat."

Wyatt looked up from the map, lifting the amethyst crystal into his hand. Turning around to give his attention to the younger witchlighter in the attic, he grinned as he spotted his brother face first in the Book of Shadows. "Well, it might help if you moved your head back just a tad. Getting so close to the print really hinders reading."

Jade green eyes lifted from the pages in order to glare at the Twice Blessed.

The future King Arthur merely shrugged, a mischievous smile on his face. "Just trying to be helpful."

"Yeah, well, don't. You suck at it." Chris whacked the book with his hand. "Nothing. Hundreds of years of witches and apparently, no summoning spell for just a body. I mean, like summoning a corpse is just so out there considering what we do every week."

"Trouble is," Wyatt explained, "summoning rituals are magic to magic. Energy to energy. Blood to– "

"– Blood. Yeah, thanks for the lesson, Wy. I got that."

The older brother frowned, leaning back in his chair as he considered the thought running through his head. "The records did say where the relatives were buried. If we could get to them, we could modify the spell slightly, make it work for what we have..."

"Bones to bones?" Chris shook his head, his brow furrowed in disgust. "That's twisted even for us."

"Do you have any other way of summoning Bannon's corpse?"

"No."

"Then, we have a grave to dig."

"Where were they buried?"

Wyatt turned his face away, mumbling something.

"What?"

Sighing, "Nebraska."

"Nebraska. We have to go dig up a grave in Nebraska? Are you kidding me?"

"It's only an orb away..."

"What's only an orb away?" their mother's voice interrupted.

The boys turned to find both their parents standing in the doorway wearing equally curious looks on their faces. Their mother's was mixed with expectation, knowing her boys well enough to know the kind of trouble they were capable of and more than likely, getting themselves into; Leo liked to give them the benefit of the doubt, even if he was wrong more often than not, so wore a look of mere curiosity.

"Lots of things," Wyatt answered with a dazzlingly white smile.

The eldest Charmed One folded her arms over her chest and raised a brow.

"Aunt Paige, for example," he tried again, his smile starting to falter under her intense brown gaze.

"Wyatt Matthew Halliwell, spill it. Now."

"Nebraska."

Leo half-smiled and half-frowned, not sure whether his son was still joking or not. "Nebraska?"

"It's kind of a long story, but the Vetala used to be human, and he was named Marshal Bannon, and in order to get rid of the Vetala, we need to purify Bannon's corpse as a make-shift funeral rite. Only, no one knows where his bones are, so we've got to go to his family's grave site and dig them up and use their bones to summon his corpse. So, you know, just a typical day at the Halliwell office."

"Yeah-huh," Piper replied, her eyes switching focus from her plastic-smiled eldest to her eye rolling youngest. "You really expect me to let you boys run off and rob a grave?"

"We were sort of hoping." "Not rob per se. . ."

"No. I do not think so. It's illegal for one thing."

Wyatt cut in, "We'd put them right back. . ."

"And a school night for another."

The Twice Blessed turned to his little brother. "She's got us on that one."

"He killed my girlfriend. The woman I love. You can't seriously be telling me to wait to kill the son of a bitch until the weekend."

Normally, the mother would have corrected the foul language, but under the circumstances let it slide. Instead, she moved to put her hands on her son's arms, squeezing them gently as she stared into his tumultuous green eyes. "I know you want revenge. I wanted the same thing when Prue was taken from us."

Chris winced, turning his eyes away.

"But, it doesn't make the pain go away, Chris," Piper went on. "The only thing capable of doing that is time. I know, it's cliche and unhelpful right now, but it became cliche because it is true. I'm not saying we won't kill the Vetala. We will. I just think for right now, you need to grieve and let us handle the vanquishing."

"No," his eyes locked firmly on hers once again. "I want him. He's mine, Mom."

"Chris. . ."

"– Piper," Leo cut in. "I think maybe Chris is right on this one. He deserves to be the one."

"But, Leo– "

"– We'll have to go with, of course," Leo added. "To help, and make sure, you boys, don't get in over your heads. As for school, Wyatt and Chris are both strong students. I wouldn't worry too much about school just now. Does that sound reasonable, Piper?"

The mother, obviously not entirely appeased, let out a breath and smiled softly. "Okay. You win. We're taking a family trip to Nebraska."  
000  
Casey rang Jessica's doorbell for the second time, bouncing on her toes– half from excitement about her news and half from the biting cold wind slamming into her cheeks. She was just about to push the button again when she heard movement inside the small home.

The door opened to reveal Kip, wearing only a pair of jeans, his dark hair messy and an irritated look on his face. When he saw who was standing out in the cold, the annoyance in his features melted to a mild nature and he took a step back, gesturing for her to enter. Once she had made it into the entryway, he called down the stairs to the basement to let Jessica know Casey had come over.

"Sorry to interrupt," Casey apologized, kicking off her shoes. "I just had to talk to Jess right away, and she wasn't answering her phone, but I knew she didn't work tonight, so I just stopped by."

"S'ok," Kip muttered, closing the door and leaning his back against it. "I wasn't getting any tonight anyway. Nothing to interrupt."

The other witch frowned. "Okay, then may I ask why you're not wearing a shirt in the middle of winter?"

"The damn demon dachshund peed on me. Jess threw my shirt in the wash."

"Demon dachshund? Are we talking actual demon, or a really poorly behaved animal? Because with our lives, it could really go either way."

Tiny scampering feet thudded up the stairs from the basement, skidding on the tile floor by the door as the subject of the conversation ran to greet the new arrival, ears perked and tail wagging.

Jessica followed after, hugging her friend in greeting as soon as she reached the top of the stairs. "Hey, Chickee, what are you doing here?"

"I had to talk to you. I got some news about my possible situation."

"What situation?" Kip asked.

Jessica ignored him. "And is it true?"

"No. It's not."

"Oh, thank god. I'm so happy for you, Case."

"Why are we happy for her?" Kip asked, looking on as the two women started hugging all over again.

"I'm happy for me too. Lord knows I did not need that right now."

"Trust me, I know. You need to finish high school and college and become a famous writer before it happens for real."

"I'm going to start telepathing soon if someone doesn't openly tell me what you're talking about," the young man threatened.

Casey finally turned to the frustrated youth and let out a breath before confessing, "I thought I might be pregnant. Phoebe had a premonition about it. As it turns out, I took the test, and I'm not."

"Oh." A beat. "Waaaaaait a minute. You slept with Chris? You slept with Chris, and he didn't tell me?"

"Kip, I didn't– "

"– I can't believe this. I'm supposed to be his guy. The one he tells everything to. I tell him all my stuff. Like about my parents' divorce and the crush I had on his aunt Phoebe when I was a kid and the rash and the. . ." He paused. Smiling, cheeks crimson, "Did I just say rash?"

Both girls nodded.

"It was that one summer I got poison ivy and thought I had the flesh eating virus, remember? The only one I wasn't scared to tell was Chris. Then, he made me show his mom, and she told me it was poison ivy."

"Oh, yeah," Casey nodded. "I do remember that. Chris called me up laughing like crazy. Took me ten minutes to figure out what he was trying to tell me."

"Anyway," Kip went on, "Point was, I can't believe he didn't tell me."

"I didn't sleep with Chris. Hence him not telling you."

"Oh. Okay, then I'm confused. How could you be pregnant without sex?"

"I had sex," the darker haired woman quietly confessed. "Just not with Chris."

"What? With who then?"

"With whom," Casey automatically corrected.

Jessica lightly slapped her boyfriend's arm. "It's none of your business. God, you are nosy. It's her business. Her very private business. Now, leave her alone."

"Uh, guys," Casey interrupted, pointing down to her leg, which was currently being ravaged by a small dog. "I love dogs and all, but could someone get him off of me?"

Jessica immediately went into action, tearing the lusty animal away from her friend. "You are a bad boy. Bad, Sam."

"Some guys just never learn," Kip muttered.

Casey did a double-take at the name. "Sam? You named your dog after my ex?"

"Not quite," the young man replied, brown eyes sliding to the ground.

"What does that mean exactly?"

Jessica smiled, her tone softening as her voice became soothing in the way a psychiatrist might speak to a mentally unbalanced patient. "Now, Case, I want you to know what happened was only done with your best interests in mind..."

The latina folded her arms over her chest, her jaw setting. "What did you do?"

Still using the psychiatrist voice, "It isn't hurting anyone. We just wanted to teach him a little lesson."

"Oh. _My_ God. You didn't. You couldn't. Shit. You did, didn't you?"

"In my lovely girlfriend's defense, I was actually the one to cast the spell."

"Wh-why? Why would you do that? Why? Why?"

Jessica handed the ex-boyfriend turned dog over to her lover while moving to take her best friend's shoulders in hand. "Case, breathe. In and out. In and out."

"I figured he acted like a dog– "

"– Hey, dogs are sweet and loyal. Do not insult the puppies," Jessica corrected the young man.

Kip rolled his eyes. "Okay, he acted like a jerk. Anyway, I cast the spell so that he had to be a dog until he remembered what it meant to act like a humane human being. I was just so pissed when I found out he hurt you. I couldn't let him get away with it, and neither could Jessica."

"That's really sweet, but still wrong. You can't punish people with magic. It's goes against the wiccan creed. Harm none. Remember?"

"I told you," Jessica shot to her boyfriend.

The young telepath rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. He's stuck as a dog until he learns the lesson."

The long bodied animal squirmed in Kip's arms, wiggling against his grasp until he finally managed to break free and hop to the floor where he promptly skidded over to Casey's feet. His nose nudged lightly against her leg as he whined piteously.

"You've got to be kidding me."

The dachshund jumped up against her leg, yipping.

"Don't make me Dog Whisper your ass," Casey threatened. "My father knew Cesar Milan, so I can sooo do it."

"Who?" Kip whispered to Jess.

Jess rolled her eyes.

The dog continued jumping and yipping, so Casey followed through on her promise. Putting her hand into a claw shape she quickly tapped the animal on the neck with the tips of her fingers, simulating the feel of another dog's bite while hissing, "Tsch."

Sam, following animal instinct, immediately backed off, his ears lying down as he sat on the tiled floor, duly chastised for his behavior.

"You're good with him," Kip observed. "Real good. You know, he's been a holy terror ever since we got him back from the park."

"The park?"

"Long story. Anyway, maybe you should take care of him. He's been ripping this place and us to shreds. Maybe, he'll behave for you since he likes you."

"You want me to take my ex-boyfriend to the manor with me? Are you kidding me?"

Jessica smiled sweetly, "You know with mom's allergies he's not going to be allowed to stay here..."

"And I can't take him. I live in an apartment," Kip added.

Casey shook her head. "I can't believe this. You two create this mess, and now, I'm going to have to clean it up?"

"Oh, so you will?"

"I didn't say– "

Kip handed her a leash, along with a small bag of dog food he'd picked up while Jess grabbed the dog bowls and held open the door. The other woman smiled widely, "We really appreciate it, Case."

"But I didn't– "

"You're such a sweet, giving woman," Kip buttered it on, giving her a gentle push out the door.

Casey, bag, bowls and leash in hands, could only blink on the other side of the door as the dog obediently followed her out, sitting next to her on the front step. As the two other witches waved goodbye to her, she could only look down at the dog, who was looking up at her and wondered what sort of a set up she'd just been caught in.

Meanwhile, inside, Jess turned to Kip. "I feel bad about this."

"Do you know of any other way to end the spell?"

"No, but that son of a you– know– what hurt her. He deserves death, not a cozy place to stay at the manor by the end of her bed."

"We talked about this already. Casey always brought out the best in him, and if he's going to remember what kind of a person he was before his dad started smacking him around, and he turned to drugs, then she's the only one to help him. Besides, if anyone can make him act like a human being it'll be her. Plus, he's a dog. He can't hurt her."

"Teeth, sharp claws."

"We trimmed his nails, and his doggy system isn't on drugs, so I don't think he'll bite her."

"Think. You don't know."

"Besides, the longer he's a dog the more he'll start thinking like one. Meaning, she's the pack leader, and he'll not only listen to her, but protect her too."

Jessica let out a breath. "I know. I know. It's why I agreed. Dog's have a sixth sense, so if a demon is around he'll know and protect her."

"Exactly. So stop worrying. This is going to work out perfectly."

"If it doesn't, I am so killing you and burying you in the back yard."

"Fair enough."  
000  
Prue Halliwell knew the moment Molly orbed from the house. She'd been waiting for the young woman to try something like this. After all, Miss Vettle had been involved with the Halliwell family for nearly a year; their rebellious nature was sure to rub off on the young woman. Especially if she was in love with Chris, who was a witch after Prue's own heart– ready to fight tooth and nail for the ones he loved at any cost.

"What's wrong?" Andy asked from his place next to her in their bed. His eyes slid up from the line of the book he was reading to look at the other whitelighter.

"Molly just left for the manor."

"That was fast."

Prue grinned. "You saw it coming too, huh?"

"I'm a detective. I see all and know all."

"Of course, you do."

"You doubt it?"

"No. On the contrary. I love it," she responded, giving him a gentle kiss.

Andy moved his hand behind her neck, pulling her closer. His other hand moved to her hip.

"Mmm, Andy, I can't," Prue objected, pulling away from his passionate embrace.

The man slumped back against the headboard. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

"I would love to. Really, I would. It's just, I have to go get Molly before someone sees her."

"I know."

"I love you."

Andy smiled softly, his light blue eyes intense as he replied, "I love you too."

Prue gave him another kiss before disappearing in a swirl of orbs.

When the former Charmed One materialized, all the breath disappeared from her lungs at the sight her eyes beheld: the attic. The trusty, dusty attic in her old home. Aunt Pearl's old sofa, still around after a million near deaths via demon attacks and potions gone wrong and Piper's temper. The potions cabinet, stocked and ready. The Book of Shadows resting open on the pedestal near the window, it's hallowed pages bringing many memories to her mind.

Without thinking, the woman moved to caress the pages, a smile fleeting over her face at the feel of the ancient tome under her fingertips. It felt like love, family, strength and home.

"You must miss it," Molly's voice pulled her from her reverie.

Prue tore her gaze from the heirloom, forcing herself to close the book and move away. "Sometimes. But, we're not here tonight because of me."

Molly, standing in the doorway, shook her head. "They're not here."

"No, they're not."

"You're going to make me go back, aren't you?"

"I can't make you do anything. I'm hoping you'll come back, though."

The younger woman swallowed hard, a tear rolling down her face. She wiped it away, sniffling. "I just wanted to see him one more time. Even if it was just to say goodbye."

"I saw him earlier today. He was asking the Elders about you. Causing one hell of a commotion up there, actually. He wanted the same thing. I'll tell you exactly what I told him. It would never be just goodbye. You will never be able to move on, if you cling to each other. It'll always be one more visit. Then one more. And another. You need to accept the fact your life is different. You need to accept that you are different, Molly."

"What if I don't want to? What if I can't?"

"You'll lose your whitelighter status, and move on permanently. Then, Chris will have to mourn for you for real."

Molly bit her lip. "You don't understand. I don't. . .I don't know how to do this without him. Without him, I just feel so. . .small. So unimportant."

"You are important, Molly, and it has nothing to do with Chris. It's all about you." Prue moved toward her. "I promise you, you were always meant for this. These gifts wouldn't be yours if you couldn't handle them. Just look at the orbing– one day and you're already orbing like a pro. That's pretty darn impressive."

"I guess so."

"I know so." The older woman put her hand on the younger's shoulder. "You've got to remember, you and Chris will see each other again. This isn't a permanent goodbye. You just need to accept this new life and learn everything you can as quickly as you can. As soon as you do that the Elders will let you come back to Chris."

"You promise?"

"I do."

Molly let out a shaky breath, nodding. "Okay. I'll come back on one condition."

"What's that?"

"You tell me how you stand being away from them, knowing how much they miss you."

Prue lowered her eyes. "I know they don't need me. They've got the lives they always wanted. Piper has Leo; Phoebe has Coop. They both have new families to worry about. Not to mention Paige. . .she's their sister now. It isn't my life anymore, and I don't fit here."

"They do need you, though. Even I've heard Piper tell stories about you, and when she talks about you, she still gets choked up and her eyes get this distant look. Her pain and sadness is still so strong. How could you think they don't need you?"

"You asked your question, and I answered it. Now, it's time we go back where we belong."

Molly, knowing she'd unintentionally brought the other woman pain with her question, decided to make up for it by orbing back to their home without needing any more prodding.

As the orb lights of her charge dissipated, Prue took one last look around the attic. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, absorbing all the aromas of the room– the smell of various herbs, the smokey residue in the walls and sofa from so many of their potions exploding, the musty air of the old room, a hint of Piper's perfume and Leo's aftershave mixed with the odors of two other colognes presumably belonging to their children.

"Goodbye, attic," she softly murmured, once again leaving the one place that had ever truly felt like home.

tbc. . .


	25. A Kiss from a Rose on the Grave

Okay, so I couldn't write a scene about digging up a grave and NOT include a couple of special guest stars, who will more than likely show up again much later on in the story as well.

CHAPTER 25

Kiss from a Rose on the Grave

The Halliwell family had participated in more bizarre activities than a normal human being could possibly even imagine. They'd been transformed into animals, ghosts, the opposite gender, mythical creatures, super heroes, fairy tales, and monsters. They'd seen the unbelievable countless times– including but clearly not limited to everything previously listed. Not to mention the lengths they would go for a vanquish, which ranged from using animal parts they never knew existed to burying ashes in cemeteries in the middle of the night. However, on their many trips to said cemetery, they had never participated in the event currently underway– grave robbing. 

According to Piper Halliwell's new watch, which she checked about every three minutes, it was well past two in the morning, and instead of being wrapped up in her husband's arms underneath the coziness of her comforter, she was standing a few feet away from a newly dug grave in the middle of Nebraska.

"I think I hit it," Wyatt announced as his shovel clanged against something hard. He pulled a face. "I just hit some poor dead guy's coffin. . .I'm so going to hell. . ."

Chris rolled his eyes, and dug his spade deeper into the earth, ploughing through until he revealed the top of an oak coffin. Without hesitating, he plunged the sharp edge of the shovel into the deteriorated wood, splitting it open to reveal a long, grey haired skeleton.

The Twice Blessed pulled a face, swiping at the air in front of his nose. "Damn that's foul."

"Okay, we've got it," Chris called up to his parents. "Now, we grab a bone, re-bury the coffin and get the heck out of here."

"Christopher, could you at least feign a little unease at the prospect of vandalizing someone's resting place?" his mother chastised.

"No time for that," Leo announced, "someone's coming."

Before the Halliwells could even think of orbing away from the cemetery, dust could be seen flying up from the gravel road running parallel to the old cemetery. Within a few moments, a black chevy impala, one headlight out, came roaring down the one way lane being followed by some sort of large wolf.

The wolf, spotting the others nearby, turned from its course and started charging toward the family in the cemetery, its feet flying underneath its furry body as it dashed at speeds one would think completely impossible for an earth bound animal to travel.

Meanwhile, the midnight black car on the road skidded to a halt, the two front doors flying open as a pair of men jumped from the front seats, guns in hand as they took up pursuit of the charging animal. The shorter of the two started firing shots mid-run, but only succeeded in nicking the animal's right ear.

Upon the bullets impact with the animal's ear, the wolf halted, rearing back on its hind legs as it howled in pain. To the surprise of the Halliwells, the hind legs soon turned into human legs, its body stretching out into that of a man as paws became hands and jowl changed to jaw. Soon, standing before them was a tall native American man with flickering yellow eyes.

"Don't look him in the face," called the taller of the two strangers as he and his partner continued pursuit.

"Come back and face us you cowardly son of a bitch," the shorter challenged, firing off two more shots from his .45 colt.

The creature took off at a run again, a blur in its movements as it headed straight for Piper who instinctively flicked out her hands to freeze the man-beast. Unfortunately, whatever it was moved too fast for her powers to catch hold of him. The creature raised a hand to rip into the Charmed One, but Chris, fast on the draw, raised his arm into the air just a second before the creature's claws made contact with the teen's mother. The result was Chris sending the attacker flying into a nearby headstone.

"Say good night you skin stealing bastard," the man with the colt declared before taking aim and firing one last time to send a silver bullet soaring through the night air and into the chest of the thing lying dazed by the headstone.

The bullet pierced the chest of the creature, tiny electric bolts zapping through the area as the monster screamed out in agony before suddenly slumping over dead in its spot, its yellow eyes never to move again.

"You guys all right?" the other stranger directed to Piper and Leo.

"Are they all right?" his partner repeated. "Didn't you see that kid full on Max the skin-walker?"

The other rolled his green eyes, ignoring the comment. "He didn't scratch you or anything, did he? You didn't look directly into his eyes?"

"No," Leo answered. "We're fine."

"Great. That's-uh-great. Me and my partner here, are just going to be going then," the shooter responded, pulling on the larger man's arm to no avail. "Sammy, come on. Let's go."

Sammy, as he was called, easily shook free from the shorter man's grasp, turning his attention to the two boys in the grave. His green eyes narrowed as he focused on Chris. "You used telekinesis back there."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Chris replied.

"Sure you don't. Just like I'm sure underneath all that calm you're really freaking out about what you just saw here, which is why when the skin-walker attacked your mom you didn't blink an eye."

Wyatt frowned, "Skin-walker?"

"It's like a cross between a werewolf and a shape shifter," the boys' father explained without thinking. "It's part of Native American lore. The only way to kill it would be a silver bullet to the heart."

"Whoa. Okay, who the hell are you people?" the shorter man asked.

Piper folded her arms over her chest. "Who are we? Who are you?"

"We don't have to tell you an– "

"– I'm Sam and this is my brother Dean."

Dean, which was the name of the man responsible for killing the skin-walker, wasted no time turning on his sibling. "Dude, what the hell is wrong with you?"

Sam, ignoring his sibling, continued, "We're hunters. I get the feeling you guys are something else, though. Am I right?"

"Witches," Wyatt answered. "Good ones."

Dean immediately grumbled under his breath, "I _hate_ friggin' witches."

Sam shot his brother a look before returning his attention back to the others. "In our experience witches aren't exactly known for playing for the good guys. Especially those with actual powers like the one you displayed."

"Believe whatever you want to believe," Chris shot back. "We're busy trying to steal a bone to summon a corpse to get revenge on the demon responsible for killing my girlfriend, so if you could just be on your merry way, we'll all get back to work. Thanks."

"Chris," Leo warned.

"Someone didn't get their nap today," Dean remarked.

The youngest son rolled his eyes.

"A demon killed your girlfriend?" Sam questioned, his green eyes softening immediately. "I'm so sorry for your loss. I know what it's like to lose someone you love like that."

Chris lowered his eyes. "Then, I'm sorry for your loss too."

"You say you're hunters?" Leo asked. "Named Sam and Dean?"

"You've heard of us?"

"Rumors. Nothing anyone really took seriously. Just, about twenty years ago there was word of two young men named Sam and Dean Winchester that were out hunting supernatural evil. It was even said a demonic war was brewing, and those two were responsible for stopping it and saving the world. No one thought it was possible two men without powers could actually do something like that."

"Well, believe it," Dean said. "That was us."

Wyatt raised his eyebrows in appreciation. "Wow. Impressive."

"Whatever," Chris remarked. "Join the club."

Leo extended a hand to Sam. "Then, it's an honor to meet you. My name is Leo Wyatt. This is my wife, Piper and our sons, Wyatt and Chris. Piper is actually a Charmed One."

"A what?"

"A Charmed One?" Sam asked. "That legend is real?"

Dean frowned at his brother. "What legend? What are you talking about?"

"Well, there is a legend in certain circles claiming the Charmed Ones are three sister witches. One moves things with her mind, another stops time and the third sees the future. They're pretty much the most powerful witches to ever live, and unlike most of the witches we've come across their powers are natural– not demonically bestowed, meaning they _are_ actually good witches."

"Oh. I knew that."

"Great. Introductions over," Chris cut in. "I have work to do."

Not waiting a minute longer, Chris reached his arm into the coffin, grabbing hold of a rib bone and pulling until he heard a crack as it broke off into his hand. He pulled it out and set it on the edge of the grave before picking up his shovel again and starting to pile the dirt back onto the coffin.

"Do you need any help?" Sam offered, feeling for the kid. "My brother and I are sort of experts."

Chris didn't respond.

Wyatt frowned as he saw a little yellow blanket moving toward them of its own accord. He pointed toward it. "Uh, guys, what's that?"

The little blanket suddenly lowered revealing the sleepy face of a girl no more than four or five years old, her brown hair in pig tails and her pajamas covered in little purple ducks. She tilted her head as she saw Chris piling the dirt back into the open grave. She turned her big brown eyes up to Sam. "Are they hunters too?"

"Mary, I thought we told you to stay in the Impala."

"I woke up," she explained as though it were obvious. She looked over to Dean. "Did you kill the bad thing?"

"Was there any doubt?"

The little girl shook her head back and forth, the two brown tails on her head swooshing back and forth.

Piper moved toward the little girl, her maternal instinct taking over. She removed her coat and placed it over the tiny girl's shoulders. "It's too cold out here for a little girl. You should be at home in your nice warm bed."

"We had to kill the bad thing."

The mother shot a dark look up to the two Winchesters. "You brought her with you on a vanquish? What is the matter with you two? She's just a little girl. It's almost three o'clock in the morning. She should not be standing out in the middle of a graveyard. She should be at home, safe and warm."

Dean stepped forward, his green eyes sharp. "Hey, Lady, don't tell us how to take care of my niece. You know nothing about us. She's fine. She's safer with us than anywhere else. Besides, we don't have any one we could leave her with, and she'd be in danger alone at some motel. Besides, you aren't exactly parent of the year with your two kids digging that grave over there."

"Excuse me?"

"Piper," Leo tried.

Sam put a hand on his brother's shoulder, "Dean..."

While Dean and Piper started tearing into each other about the other's parenting skills, Wyatt kept his eyes on Mary who toddled over to the grave where she sat down on the edge, cuddling her little yellow blanket. She looked up at Wyatt and smiled shyly. "Hi. I'm Mary."

"Hey, Cutie, I'm Wyatt."

The little girl looked over to Chris. "Hi."

No response.

She scrunched up her little face. "I said hiiiii."

Wyatt turned to tap his brother on the shoulder. "Chris, someone's talking to you."

"I'm a little busy right now."

Mary, upset at being ignored, threw her blanket at Chris. The yellow fleece landed over the teenager's head, causing him to stop what he was doing to remove it. At which point, he realized a little girl was currently staring at him from the edge of the grave. He looked over to Wyatt who was smiling like an idiot. "Who's the kid?"

"I'm Mary," said child answered, batting her eyelashes at the brunet.

"I'm Chris."

"You're cute," the little girl giggled.

The older brother stifled a laugh as Chris' eyes went wide in response to the pig tailed four year old making eyes at him from the edge of the grave. Even through the dark of the night, anyone could see the young man's cheeks were bright red. "Uh...thanks. You too."

"Come here."

"Why?"

The little girl pouted. "Pleeeeease?"

Chris set down his shovel and moved to stand in front of the little girl. Before he knew what was happening the child had taken her tiny hands and placed them on either side of his face forcing him into a peck on the lips.

"Whoa," Dean commented, spotting the scene. "Guess the little tyke takes after her Uncle Dean, huh, Sammy?"

Piper, mid-rant paused to look back over her shoulder to see what it was the hunter was referring to. She caught the tail end of the kiss and immediately started smiling at how adorable it was.

Leo, also turning to see, couldn't wipe the smile off his own face. "It's funny. Kids and Chris don't normally go together very well. The little ones usually flock to Wyatt..."

"He probably reminds her of us," Sam commented.

Dean folded his arms over his broad chest. "Come her teenage years, we're gonna have to watch this one like a hawk. Ain't no guy getting anywhere near her."

"Is that so?" Sam asked with a chuckle.

"I know what guys think– what they really want. I used to be one. No way in hell is one getting near Mary. That kiss is gonna be her last till she's like...thirty."

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. "Right." Turning to the other parents, "Well, Piper, you are right. Mary should be in bed. So, we need to go, but," he reached into his jacket pocket pulling out a card, "here's my cell number. If you ever need our help just give us call."

"Will do," Piper promised, pocketing the number.

Sam turned to Chris, who had just climbed out of the grave, rib bone in his hand. "I hope you get the demon responsible. I really do."

"Me too."

Dean Winchester removed Piper's coat from Mary, slipping his own over her shoulders instead, while Leo grabbed his wife's and returned it to her. Meanwhile, Dean scooped his niece up into his arms, depositing the girl onto his shoulders. "Come on, Mary. Time to catch some z's."

"But, I'm not tired," she whined.

"You think I care?"

"Five card stud to stay up?"

"You cheat."

"Do not."

"Do so."

"Do no-ot."

"Do so-oh."

Sam shook his head. "Dean, you realize you're arguing with a four year old, right?"

"Dude, what's your point? I'm winning."

"Sure you are." Sam turned to the others. "It was very nice meeting all of you. Like I said, just give us a call if you need anything."

"We will," Piper assured him.

Mary turned her head to smile back at Chris. "Bye, Chris."

The teen gave a little wave, his cheeks still bright red.

As the Winchester brothers disappeared toward the black Impala still parked on the dirt road, the little girl negotiating with her Uncle for more time, Leo and Piper couldn't help but think about the dynamic between the two strange men. In only the few moments they'd passed with the two hunters, both parents were strongly reminded of their own two boys and the strong bond they shared. They wondered if the child coming into their lives soon (based on Phoebe's premonition) would be like Mary– loved completely by both father and uncle, and if the child's life were bound to be just as chaotic.

000

Casey had returned to Halliwell manor to find the place completely deserted. It was an unusual occurrence. Most of the time the Manor was bustling with both immediate and distant family. Some members of the group weren't even corporeal. So, to find the place so empty was a little disconcerting. While the old Victorian home had been more of a home to her than her own, right now, all alone, she was a little frightened.

Sitting up in the attic, the place where she generally felt safest, the witch curled up on Aunt Pearl's sofa with a throw blanket from Chris' room, her former boyfriend currently curled up on her feet and snoring. The noise emitted from the small dog was surprising; who knew something so small could sound so loud?

"Then, I have to subtract here...no. That's not right," she murmured, erasing her calculus problem for the third time. It was amazing she wasn't failing all her classes as distracted as she'd been since getting back to the States. Not to mention, math wasn't exactly her favorite subject to begin with.

Then of course was the fact it was almost three in the morning and her body was starting to go to into slumber mode without her permission. Her eyelids felt heavier each time she read over the problem. Her head was starting to tilt back to rest on the back of the couch when she caught herself and jerked back upright.

It was after the fourth time she'd nearly dosed off that orb lights lit up the area, accompanied by a soft jingle. Piper, Leo and the boys stepped out of the ethereal lights a moment later. Chris and Wyatt were covered in dirt and sweat, and it appeared to Casey as though her best friend was holding a human bone in his hand, which, in any other family, would have been out of the realm of possibility. For her, it was just out of the ordinary.

"Hey, why aren't you in bed?" Wyatt asked, immediately concerned. "It's late."

"Why is Chris holding some human's rib in his hand?"

"I asked first."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Couldn't sleep with no one home. Felt weird."

"Using it to summon Marshal Bannon's corpse."

"Oooh."

Piper set her eyes on the furry animal resting on the old sofa. "What is that? More importantly, why is it in my house?"

The young woman didn't get the chance to answer the question because it was at this moment the little dog awoke from all the talking, his brown eyes popping open and immediately setting their sights on Chris. With a low growl, the wiener dog leaped from the end of the sofa and threw himself at the brunet teenager, yipping and snapping at the witchlighter.

"What the hell?" Chris questioned, blocking the sharp teeth with the bone without thinking.

Sam, being a dog, immediately went for the bone, grasping it firmly in his strong jaw. With a few good jerks, the dachshund managed to rip the bone from Chris' hand. Once the article was firmly in his doggy mouth, Sam tore out of the attic like a little brown blur.

"Sam, no," Casey cried, jumping to her feet.

It was already too late though. The animal was long gone.

"Sam?" Chris questioned. "You named your new pet Sam?"

"A. So not my pet. B. I didn't name him his parents did."

"Excuse me?"

"That _was_ Sam."

"That was a dog."

"In our world the two do not necessarily have to be mutually exclusive," Casey pointed out.

"She has a point," Wyatt agreed. "Sure explains why he hated you on sight."

"Gee, thanks, Wy."

Leo formed a 'T' with his hands. "Wait a minute. That dog was actually a person? How did he wind up a dog? You know better than to use magic for personal gain."

"I didn't do it," Casey defended herself. "Kip did. Then he and Jess thrust the little monster onto me. Which, is why he was here in the first place. I didn't know what else to do with him."

Piper let out a breath, putting her hands on her hips. "Okay, well, first of all, we need to round him up and get that bone back. We'll figure out how to turn him back into a real boy after that."

"Can't. Kip made it so the spell has to run its course."

Chris rolled his eyes, muttering, "Great. Just great."

"Anyone want the good news?" Wyatt asked. When he managed to receive everyone's attention, "The dog can't leave the manor. So, it's not like he got far. Chances are he just went in some little nook to chew on the bone."

"Great, so not only have we vandalized a grave, we're letting a dog chew on some dead man's rib. Our whole family is going to hell," Piper moaned.

"Wyatt," Casey started, "couldn't you just call for the bone? Orb it to you? If it's still in the house it must easily be in your range, right?"

"I would think so. Okay– rib bone."

With a satisfying swirl of lights, the purloined rib appeared in the Twice Blessed's outstretched hands. He smiled, more than a little pleased with himself. Until he noticed the slimy saliva now on the palm of his hand. He shook off the excess dribble, pulling a face. "So disgusting."

Chris yanked the bone from his brother's grasp, immediately moving over to the Book of Shadows, where they'd left the page open to the summoning spell. Taking a cursory look at the needed ingredients, the young man moved over to the potion table, grabbing the silver mortar and quickly throwing together a pinch of rosemary, a sprig of cypress, and a yarrow root. While grinding together these ingredients with the pestle, Chris chanted, "Powers of the witches rise, course unseen across the skies. Come to us who call you near. Come to us and settle here."

He then put the bone into the mixture and finished the spell. "Bone to bone I summon thee. Bone to bone return to me."

In a swirl of golden lights, a new corpse, one smaller than the skeleton from the cemetery, appeared in the middle of the attic. The foul smell from the decomposition of human flesh forced all present to plug their noses, waving at the air in front of them as though it might help.

Chris moved to grab the salt from the potion ingredients stashed on the cabinet shelf. Dousing the skeleton with the purifying agent, he then turned to Wyatt. "Do your thing all powerful one."

With a mere blink of his eyes, the Twice Blessed sent the skeletal frame bursting into flames, controlling each ember with precision to make sure only the bones were lit and not the family home. After a moment, ashes were all that remained of one Marshal Bannon.

"Blessed Be," Wyatt murmured as the last ember faded.

"Blessed Be," his parents and Casey both repeated.

Chris stared at the pile of dust on the floor, his eyes unnaturally dark as they focused in on the remains of the thing responsible for killing the woman he loved. "May those not be the only flames you feel, you son of a bitch."

Then, he orbed away.

Casey turned to give Wyatt a worried look which was more than reciprocated by both he and his parents.

000

Milash, laying on his stomach on the soft bed of the apartment Zayel had for them, was completely absorbed in the tale being unraveled on the television screen. In these late night hours, he always felt fortunate the t.v. programmers felt it necessary to show the afternoon soap operas a second time. He just loved the drama.

Would Kendall ever forgive her son Spike for choosing his new girlfriend over his own mother? Was Emma going to break up with Adam once and for all? And what about the big fire at the Pine Valley hospital? What was going to happen next?

"Oh, come on," the Vetala whined. "He cheated on you. There's no forgiveness for that girlfriend. Dump him. Dump him hard. Break his heart into a million pieces like he did yours. Oh, yeah. Tell him. Take that, Adam. Ha."

A sharp pain shot through Milash's chest, burning like a bad case of acid reflux. He rubbed the afflicted area, wincing at the acuteness of the pain. For a moment, the gesture seemed to help, but then, the small spark of pain erupted into an inferno.

His whole body felt like it was being burned alive. Every nerve in his host body was screaming, pulsing in pain.

Without seeing another option, Milash abandoned his host, watching as the body slumped over lifeless on the bed without his essence to keep it moving. Unfortunately, dumping the meat suit had no affect on the pain. The Vetala's agony wasn't coming from the corpse he'd been using; it was coming from inside his own spirit.

_Come on, Bethy, you can do it. _It was his own voice, just from a time very long ago. One he didn't remember being part of until this very moment.

_A little blonde girl of no more than four was giggling happily, chasing after her big brother, her long ponytail bouncing behind her as she followed his challenges with glee. Her little feet were pounding on the grass as she scampered after her hero, trying desperately to catch him. _

The young man slowed his jog, allowing his sister to catch up and pounce on him, knocking them both to the soft grass. Her laughter rang through the summer air as she bounced excitedly from atop her big brother. "Caught you, Marsh," she giggled.

"Oh, yeah?" the teenager challenged, tickling her, causing her to squeal.

A scream interrupted the happy moment. Marshal looked over to the house as a crash followed. He lifted his little sister up, setting her on her feet. "Go hide in our secret spot, Bethy."

"Where you going?"

"Just go," he ordered, running back up to the house.

As he tore through the back door, he found himself sliding, nearly crashing into the table. When he looked down to see the cause of his near fall, the sight made his stomach churn. Deep crimson stained the linoleum.

Milash shook his head, pushing his hands into his eyes, trying to block out the images now bombarding him. 

_His mother lifeless on the livingroom floor, a large hole in her chest. _

His father, his head beaten in with the poker from the fireplace.

Little Bethy. . .

Milash shook his head, tears pouring down his face. He remembered. He remembered all of it. Every last horrible, heart wrenching, gut turning detail. More importantly, he remembered who had caused it. 

_"Hello, Marshal. I have special plans for you." _

Zayel. Zayel had killed them. He had murdered his whole family. Murdered Marshal himself. Then, he'd hidden Marshal's body to make sure no one found it, ensuring the angry spirit would never be put to rest. He made sure the angry, heart broken spirit of a teenage boy would turn into an ugly monster, who's only desire was to feed on others, to cause the same pain he felt. Zayel had even taken it one step further. He's used his power to drive Marshal slightly insane– enough so he couldn't remember his own past. 

No more. Zayel would never use him again. Someone had set him free from the monster's control.Marshal was free to do as he pleased, to move on if he wished. He would someday. But first, he had to make amends for the terrible things Zayel had forced him to do. And to punish Zayel for what he'd stolen from Marshal.

_Bethy kissed his nose. "Love you, Marsh."_

He had unfinished business to take care of.

tbc. . .


	26. The Power of Goodbye

_Okay, so this chapter is a bit weird, but it's super super long, so hopefully, that makes up for some of the weirdness...Oh, lyrics at the end are from Madonna's song The Power of Goodbye._

_CHAPTER 26_

The Power of Goodbye

Lucas reached over to grab the rose extract resting on the small round table in front of him, but paused at the sound of Molly's bedroom door opening behind him. He turned around to give her a nod hello, doing a double take as he caught sight of what she was wearing: a black dress suit. He quirked a brow in her direction, but remained silent. 

"Funeral is today."

"You're kidding, right?"

Molly shook her head, plopping down on the sofa. "No. After all, how many chances does a person really get to see their own funeral?"

"Sick. Sick _and_ twisted."

"Wouldn't you be curious?"

"More like disturbed by the fact it was possible."

The whitelighter raised her head to look over her charge's shoulder and into the large bowl he had in front of him. It was her turn to raise a brow. "So, what attempt would this one be?"

"Sixty-eight," he answered, sprinkling in the extract.

He held his breath as the last ingredient danced across the surface of the potion before melding with the concoction completely. Once this happened, Lucas was able to release the breath he'd been holding in. It had taken him days and almost seventy different attempts to manage it, but he'd just successfully made the love potion destined to save his life.

"You know, Lucas, I don't know why the love potion is even necessary at this point. The Vetala was taken care of, right?"

"Yeah, but he's still acting like he's evil. I don't know why. It's like he's waiting for something. In any case, he's still following through with Zayel's orders, just taking his sweet time doing it. Last time I checked up on them, the minion purposefully dropped the vial of their potion.It's like he's trying to buy time. Just not sure for what."

"Interesting. So, you think he'll eventually go through with it?"

"Zayel took up the project himself. The Vetala doesn't have anything to do with it at this point. So, Zayel's potion will probably be done anytime now, which means I need to hurry up, bottle this and get over to the manor ASAP."

"You know, there's probably a reason it took you so many, _many_ attempts to get the potion right. Like maybe the Powers that Be are trying to tell you something. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn't meant to be."

"No. No way. You can't mean that. I _am _meant to be. Howcan you think otherwise, Molly?" Lucky argued, clearly a little hurt by her comment.

Molly moved to put a hand on his upper arm, letting her gentle hazel eyes stare into his steely green in an attempt to convey just how wrong his assumption was. Her eyes shone with a love so powerful a bond of blood could not even strengthen it. "Lucas Perry Halliwell, I have loved you since the day you were born. You may not be my son biologically, but you know I would die for you as quickly as your own mother– may she rest in peace. Now, don't you dare let a thought slip into that head of yours to the contrary. I never wanted to imply you weren't meant to be. I was referring to the potion. Understand?"

The shaggy haired teen nodded, his eyes slipping to the floor.

"I only thought forcing your parents into it might not be the best route. Your conception should be done through the mutual love and respect of your parents. Not a potion."

"If Zayel uses his potion, I might not exist. I think I'd rather fight fire with fire and say to hell with mutual love and respect."

"Language."

"Sorry. Say to heck with, then. Doesn't change my point, which is I'd prefer to exist than not."

Molly brushed his jagged bangs from his eyes with a motherly tenderness. "Okay. I understand. You need to do what you need to do."

"Thank you."

"Just make sure you're back in time for my funeral."

"You're really planning on going through with it?"

The whitelighter gave a little shrug. "What can I say? I'm too curious to pass it up."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Satisfaction brought him back," Molly shot back with a grin. "Now, go do your thing. I'll wait for you here then we'll head over to the church together."

"Why do I have to go?"

"I don't want to sit at my funeral alone. How depressing."

Lucas rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'll see you in a few minutes."

The youth, potion bottled and ready in his hand, went up in a brilliant shower of blue and white lights, re-materializing invisible inside the kitchen of Halliwell Manor. He nearly gasped in surprise when he found his mother standing only a few feet away from him. He hadn't thought to sense for anyone before he orbed. It was lucky he hadn't crashed right into her. Still, being so close to her was bad enough.

He took a couple of steps back, watching her face carefully to see if she'd felt anything unusual, maybe sensed his presence. Her deep brown eyes were dull, signaling her thoughts were keeping her trapped in her own little world. She probably wouldn't have noticed him if he were visible, as deep in concentration as she appeared to be.

"Morning, Casey," Wyatt greeted, stepping into the kitchen dressed in black slacks and a silky black dress shirt. He frowned as he took in the sight of the young woman. "You're not dressed. Why aren't you dressed? The funeral is only an hour away, and with traffic the way it is we need to go soon."

Lucas winced, sure that at any moment the all powerful Twice Blessed would sense his presence and reveal him to all the world. He opened his eyes, which he had squeezed shut in panic. Wyatt was staring at his mother. Apparently, he was too focused on her to notice the visitor from the future standing over by the kitchen table.

Biting her lower lip in the way Lucas remembered meant she was troubled, Casey finally looked up into the Twice Blessed's eyes. "I'm not going."

"What? What do you mean?"

Casey turned her back to the young man, busying herself with pouring a cup of coffee into a red mug she pulled down from the cupboard. Once it was full of liquid caffeine, she mixed it with cream and sugar. As she stirred the creamy brown liquid with a spoon she'd pulled from the drawer, she tried to sound nonchalant. "Chris doesn't want me there."

"Chris doesn't...?" Wyatt blinked, wondering for a moment if he'd heard correctly. After a brief pause to collect his shaken thoughts, he asked, "He said so?"

"Didn't have to," the other witch answered, dropping the spoon onto the counter with a clang.

Lucas eyed the mug then glanced at the potion vial in his hand. It could work. . .

"Oh, so you're just assuming, then? Good. For a minute I thought my brother had lost his mind."

"What are you talking about?"

"You've been his best friend since you both were barely talking. You know him better than anyone– except me, of course– you have always been a good and loyal friend to him, and more importantly, you love him. He needs all that today. He needs you to sit by him in that pew while he watches the world say goodbye to the girl he gave his heart to."

Casey, clasping the mug tightly in both hands, let out a shaky breath. "I want to. I want to be that for him today. It's just. . .he hasn't said one word to me since I kissed him. He's been avoiding me like I was the carrier of some plague. In fact, he won't even look at me."

"Have you tried to talk to him about it?"

The young woman quickly took a sip from her steaming mug. "Mmm, have I told you how good the coffee is this morning?"

"I guess that means no."

The Twice Blessed gently pulled the mug from her hands, setting it down on the counter next to where his mother's white one was resting. He then took his friend's hands in his, while forcing her to look him in the eyes. "Case, I know my brother can be a stubborn idiot when he wants to be. So, even if he is avoiding you, don't let him. He needs you to help him through this. He acts tough, but we both know how he really feels– hurt, alone, angry. Watching them bury Molly's body today is going to kill him. So, he needs both of us by his side, whether he'll admit to it or not."

Casey nodded her head, smiling softly. "Okay. I guess I'll go change. Good thing I have the black dress from the last funeral, huh?"

"Again with the debased humor?"

"Sorry."

The young woman moved to her tiptoes, kissing the young man lightly on the cheek. "Thanks for the pep talk."

"Anytime."

As Casey scurried from the kitchen, Lucas felt the panic rising again, waiting for the Twice Blessed to finally sense his presence and expose him or worse try to vanquish him. Luckily, a call from his brother distracted the future King Arthur, who promptly orbed from the kitchen to check up on his sibling.

Lucky moved from the table over to the counter. Unfortunately, when he reached the counter, he realized he didn't remember which mug his mother had been holding in her hand. Was it red or white? He hadn't really paid too much attention to color. He had just been hoping Wyatt would leave.

Hearing someone coming, Lucas made a snap decision to put half the potion into the white mug, saving the other half for his father's dosing. If he remembered correctly, his mom didn't like red, so white it was. Dumping in the clear potion, he then ducked away from the counter just in time to see his grandmother scurry into the kitchen.

To Lucas' utter horror, she immediately moved to grab the white mug, taking a healthy drink from it while walking back out of the kitchen, calling for Leo as she went.

"Oh, no. Oh, no no no." Lucas pulled at his hair. "Shit. Instead of putting mom in the mood, I probably got grandpa laid. Eeeeeew."

000

Zayel shimmered into the girl's bedroom, potion in hand, ready to change the course of history. Unfortunately, despite all his planning and scheming to create the perfect moment to put his plan into motion, he had neglected to take into account one tiny detail: Sam.

Upon materializing, the demon found himself at the mercy of a tiny brown fur ball with teeth which dug deep into his leg.

Casey turned around from the closet, severely startled to find her ex-boyfriend chewing on thin air– which clearly wasn't as thin as it appeared. She flicked out her hands, trying to freeze the invisible entity and her personal guard dog, but as was par for the course lately, her powers weren't cooperating, which was clear from the way Sam kept snarling. "Wyatt, Chris," she bellowed, backing up into the closet.

Zayel ripped the ferocious pup from his leg tossing him at the nearest wall.

Horrified, the witch in the room panicked, her hands shooting out toward the flying animal, who immediately stopped in mid-air, safe from impact with the wall.

Two sets of orb lights appeared a moment later, taking the shapes of Wyatt and Chris.

Zayel, knowing when to cut his losses, immediately shimmered away from the formidable duo.

Casey ran over to the frozen wiener dog, taking the animal into her arms just as her power wore off. She scratched behind Sam's ears, making his hind leg twitch in happiness. "_Gracias a Dios_."

Wyatt couldn't sense any evil in the room, but still felt a lingering echo of maliciousness in the air. "Demon was here but definitely took off when we showed up."

"I can't believe this," Chris snapped. "He attacked us today? Today of all days?"

"Demons aren't exactly known for their sensitivity, Chris," Wyatt softly remarked.

Sam's tiny head whipped over to look at the younger witchlighter. He bared his teeth, growling deep in the back of his throat before giving off a few sharp barks in the young man's direction.

"Shut up, Sam," Chris barked back.

Casey moved to set the animal on the floor, making sure he was completely submissive to her will before removing her eyes from him. When his ears went back and he laid down, she turned her attention to Chris. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

Wyatt glanced down at his wrist, which was bare. "Oh, look at the time. I need to finish getting ready, so I'm just going to– ah– go leave you two kids to, I don't know, talk?"

The Twice Blessed moved to pick up the dachshund, cradling the animal in his big arms as Sam squirmed in protest– at least until Wyatt started massaging the tips of his ears, at which point the doggy eyes became droopy and he snuggled in to the nook of the witch's arm. Once he had the dog calm, he less than gracefully excused himself, closing the bedroom door behind him on his way out.

"Subtle isn't he?" Casey remarked.

"Like a fireball to the chest."

A beat of uneasy silence filled the room. Casey fidgeted on her feet, shoving her hair behind her ears as her eyes turned to look anywhere but at the young man in front of her. In the same space of time, Chris folded his arms over his chest, keeping his eyes locked on his shiny black dress shoes.

Finally, in an explosion of words both asked the other simultaneously, "Why are you avoiding me?" "What's up with us lately?"

"You think I'm avoiding you?" Chris asked, clearly shocked. "I'm not. Looking back on this week, I guess I could see where you might think so, though. After vanquishing the Vetala I just really wanted to be alone. To think and try to deal with everything. I never meant to make you think it was because of you– it had nothing to do with you. I swear."

"I would have deserved it," the young woman softly admitted. "I don't know why I kissed you that night. It was just habit, maybe? Not that it's an excuse. There isn't one. I'm just so sorry I did."

Chris smiled softly, folding his arms over his chest. "I'm kind of not sorry you did. Don't get me wrong, I don't want it to happen again. I'm in love with Molly, and she's out there somewhere, and I have every confidence she'll come back to me, so I plan to wait for her. It's just...I can't regret the kiss. It's you."

Casey blushed, biting her bottom lip and turning her eyes away.

"Even though I'm not _in_ love with you anymore, I do still love you a lot. We have a lifetimes worth of history all the way from learning to walk to the first time we slept together. That kiss had all the history and all the feelings. It made me remember there are people still in my life who love me and who I love. So, in a way, it was a good thing to do."

"Just not ever again," his friend added quietly.

"I'm sorry," Chris stated, looking uncharacteristically helpless. "I hate being the one hurting you. I'd rather rip out my own than break your heart."

"I know."

The witchlighter moved to wrap his friend in his arms. He sweetly kissed the top of her head as she nestled it against his chest. Closing his eyes, he took in the subtle smell of her mango conditioner. He smiled softly. He had always loved the sweet aroma of her hair.

Chris had always loved running his hands through the ultra silky tresses as well. It was partly for this reason he ran a hand over the waterfall of hair falling onto her back as a gesture to comfort her. It was something he had done many times before in the course of their friendship. Perhaps, the ritual is why the gesture inadvertently soothed him as well.

Swallowing down his pride, the young man managed to admit, "I don't think I can do this today. . .see her like that."

Casey lifted her head to focus on his shimmering eyes. "Wyatt and I will be with you the whole time. We'll help you get through today. I promise."

He nodded his head, licking his lips as he tried to keep a lid on his tempestuous emotions. "How did you do it?"

"My dad's funeral?"

He nodded.

Casey's eyes dropped to the floor, images of her father torn to shreds in the morgue crashing into the center of her mind's eye. It was replaced by her mother wearing a short black dress and a matching hat with a small black blusher attached to it. The woman was sobbing as she yelled, _'This is all because of magic. You people bring death wherever you go. Just stay away. Don't you dare set one foot in that church today. You're not welcome in the house of God._ "I didn't go."

"You didn't go? What do you mean you didn't go?"

The young woman's eyes flicked up to her friend's face. Pain of an unspeakable nature clouded the coffee colored orbs. "I wasn't welcome."

"What? You mean your mom? Oh my god...I can't believe...I mean she's always been a bitch, but to deny you your last goodbye? I could wring her neck."

The conversation didn't go any further as Wyatt poked his head into the room, smiling anxiously. "So...I hate to interrupt, but time is up. We actually have to go. You guys cool, though?"

"More than," Chris answered.

Wyatt looked over to the young woman in the room for confirmation. He was rewarded with a little nod and half smile. Her focus was far away, though, and something dark lurked underneath the surface. Either Chris was blind to some unresolved issue between them, or Casey's pain didn't have to do with him. The Twice Blessed couldn't tell.

In any case, the three friends headed out of the room and down the stairs. They were surprised not to find Leo and Piper both waiting for them in the foyer. In fact, neither adult was anywhere in sight. As far as the teenagers could tell, they weren't anywhere downstairs.

"Mom, Dad?" Chris called up the stairs. "We need to go."

A few moments later, Piper appeared, glowing with a large smile on her face. Her expression only became somber as she reached the bottom of the stairs and her gaze fell on her youngest son's face. At which point any glee previously visible in her disappeared. She put a hand on her son's shoulder. With no words, she conveyed the deepest of sympathies. Then, she continued on her way, snatching her keys from the table in the entry and moving for the door calling back, "Okay, everyone, let's go. We don't want to be late."

Wyatt turned to Casey, whispering, "Did my _mother_ just have an after sex glow?"

Stifling a small giggle, "I think so."

Chris turned to look back at the others. "What was that?"

They both shook their heads, shrugging. Both knew the other teen would be unable to see the humor in the situation today.

Leo came hurrying down the stairs a moment later, finishing up with his tie as he reached the bottom landing. He noticed the knowing and slightly reproachful looks on both Casey and Wyatt's faces and turned deep red, muttering, "Well, come on guys. Don't just stand there, get out to the car."

Chris frowned as his father nigh on ran from the house past the other two kids who were both looking anywhere but at him, with their mouths twitching in efforts not to smile. He let out a breath. "They had sex didn't they?"

"They don't do that," Casey remarked with an innocent look on her face.

Wyatt added, "Ever."

Unamused, the younger brother snatched his coat from the closet before storming out of the house.

"I think he bought it," Wyatt commented.

Casey couldn't help but laugh.

000

The church was quaint with only room for a hundred or so people. All of the windows were done in stained glass imagery of the life of Christ from birth to death to resurrection. Rows of pale wood pews with soft red cushioning led up to the front alter where the mahogany casket rested surrounded by a carpeting of potted white lilies.

Molly's mother was up at the front of the church, talking with the pastor. It was clear even from Chris' position at the back of the sanctuary the woman was barely holding it together. The larger woman looked so fragile, practically shaking all over as she struggled to keep her tears at bay.

Piper, standing closely by her son, took a deep breath as she too spotted Ms. Vettle. "There's no describing the pain of a mother who's lost her child. It's so much worse than death."

Wyatt frowned at his mother, noticing the sheen in her eyes and the way his father immediately took her hand and gave it a squeeze. "You almost sound like you would know..."

The mother forced a smile to her face, shaking her head. "No. Of course not."

The Twice Blessed knew she was lying when her eyes immediately shifted to his father's, and the two shared a moment only they could possibly understand. It was something the Twice Blessed would not be forgetting any time soon. Nor was it a matter he planned on letting drop. When the time was right, he would remind his mother of this moment, and he would get a truthful answer.

"I can't go up there," Chris breathed. "I can't."

Casey linked her arm with his. "We'll go together." She rubbed his arm soothingly. "We'll just go up and say goodbye to Molly, and then give our condolences to her mom. It's the right thing to do. You can lean on me and let me be the strong one for a change. Okay?"

Chris nodded.

Wyatt caught sight of them heading toward the casket and followed behind them. He knew his brother would need all the support he could get for this.

The young woman led her friend up the aisle toward the open casket, feeling him tense more and more the closer they got to the front of the church. She knew it was his way of trying to remain in control of his feelings. So, when they reached the casket, she rubbed circles on his back until he let himself relax.

Wyatt noticed the interaction between the other two teenagers, and knew both of them well enough to know just how hard Casey was trying to calm Chris down, while Chris was struggling to keep his emotional barriers unhealthily intact. So, putting a hand on his little brother's shoulder, he softly said, "It's okay _not_ to be strong today, Chris."

With those words and the touch from his big brother, the wall inside the young man broke. He let out one large breath, the next few hitching as he looked down on the body of the woman he loved, trapped inside the wooden resting place. He could feel the tears welling up in his eyes and hated it. He squeezed them shut, taking another deep breath to get a grip on his emotions.

Casey took his hand, rubbing her thumb over the back of it with a feathery touch. Once he was back in control, she looked over to Molly's corpse lying peacefully in the white satin covered box. She placed a hand on the edge of the coffin, her own emotions starting to get to her.

However, she had something to say, and was not about to be derailed by sorrow. "Molly, I hate I didn't get but a few brief encounters with you before you were taken from us. However, in that small amount of time, I was able to see what an inspiring person you truly are. You were able to see past your own feelings to help me in a time of need. You were kind to me when you had every right not to be. More importantly, you loved my best friend completely, making him happier than he's ever been. For being so good to him and to me, you took a place in my heart as well, which grieves along with everyone else here today."

Chris smiled softly at the words. "That was nice."

"Really beautiful," Wyatt added.

Neither of them noticed a glamoured Molly getting teary a few feet away, her youthful companion patting her arm while smiling over at Chris and Casey with a proud look in his eyes.

"I almost feel bad for how I treated her when I first returned to the manor as a new whitelighter," Molly softly admitted.

Lucas, also glamoured as to not draw attention to himself, frowned at his guardian. "What do you mean? I thought you and mom were friends?"

The whitelighter laughed nervously. "That came quite a bit later..."

Wyatt cleared his throat before taking his turn with saying goodbye. "Molly, you were a really great friend. You always did anything to make sure other people were happy, always giving your loyalty and love one hundred percent. You were a beautiful person both inside and out, and you will be missed."

The older Molly put her hand to her heart. "For an all powerful being he always has been a complete softy."

Chris shook his head as he gazed down on the unmoving body of his girlfriend. "I can't believe how pale she is...I mean, I know that's how it works, but. . ."

"I know," his friend said.

"I'm not sure what to say," the witchlighter admitted.

Wyatt replied, "Just say what you feel."

The younger boy nodded. Taking a breath, he started, "Molly, I didn't do or say the right things. Now, probably isn't going to be any different. So, I'm just going to say this: I will always love you."

Lucas shook his head. "I feel like a peeper."

Molly, ignoring her charge, remarked, "Just like Chris to be simple, sweet and to the point."

"I think you said the perfect thing," Casey commented to Chris. "It was very you."

The Twice Blessed nodded in agreement.

"Now, I just have to find the right words for her mom," he muttered, realizing how much harder the next part would be for him.

Chris took a deep breath to quiet his nerves before going over to Ms. Vettle. The older woman immediately started crying upon seeing her baby's boyfriend, and pulled the young man into a tight embrace.

"I'm so sorry," Chris murmured.

The mother pulled away, shaking her head. "You have nothing to be sorry for, Sweetie. You made my little girl so happy. She always said Prom was the best night of her life, but every day since then you still treated her like a princess. Her eyes were always so full of joy when she was with you. And I could always see how much you loved her too. At least she got to experience real love before she," the mother got choked up, unable to finish.

"She was the best thing to happen to me," Chris offered, not sure what else to say in these circumstances.

The mother smiled, but the tears kept coming until she was forced to excuse herself to go regroup.

"Chris," a voice from behind said.

Chris turned around to find Bryan, red eyed and shaken. He extended a hand to the other young man, pulling his girlfriend's best friend into a quick hug with a pat on the back. When they parted, the witchlighter gently inquired how the other was holding up.

"I'm a mess," Bryan admitted. "When I found out, I just stood there in complete shock like it was some sort of sick joke, and if only my mom would get to the punch line everything would be okay. Only she didn't. And it's not."

"I know exactly what you mean."

Bryan winced as he caught sight of the body. "I can't believe she's in there. That this is really happening. I pictured us being friends when we were old and wrinkled and in a nursing home playing cards. Death is always unfair, but this? It goes beyond unfair, right? I mean, she never got to live her life. She was just starting to be happy with college and you...especially you. Man, she really loved you."

"I really love– loved– her."

The other youth took a shaky breath. "I should go be with Molly's mom. She was practically my mom too. Maybe I can offer her some comfort."

"I think she'd like that, Bryan."

As Bryan left to find the distraught parent, the minister stepped to the front, arms clasped in front of him, staring out over the funeral attendants like a noble bird watching everything from its lofty perch. As people began to notice him patiently waiting, everyone began to settle into the pews, ready as they possibly could be for the funeral to begin.

Chris sat sandwiched between his brother and his best friend, and as the service began, everything became a blur of meaningless words and the sharp clenching of his heart every time his eyes caught sight of the lifeless woman he loved more than words have the art to describe.

_The spell has been broken, I loved you so  
Freedom comes when you learn to let go. _

Choking down the hopeless feeling drowning him, the witchlighter took hold of Casey's hand, squeezing it tightly, trying to remind himself not to let go of his hope, his faith that all of this meant nothing because Molly would be returned again soon. 

_Pain is a warning that something's wrong,  
I pray to God that it won't be long._

As the minister kept droning about Molly's life, the facts of which everyone in the church already knew, Chris caught sight of Bryan, an arm wrapped around Molly's mother over on the opposite side of the church. Both of their faces were moist with liquid pain. Seeing their sorrow, Chris wished he could shorten their grief by telling them about Molly's fate as a whitelighter, but knew it was impossible.

_There's nothing left to try  
__There's no place left to hide. _

People kept looking at him. Kids from school. Relatives of Molly. Random adults Chris had never met before. All of them kept looking at him with the same look– you poor kid, your girlfriend's dead, and we feel sorry for you. Chris wanted nothing more than to turn invisible right then and there to avoid the looks, which only reminded him he had a reason for them to feel sorry for him. Instead, he slouched down further in the pew, closing his eyes and praying for the end, so he could go back to mourning alone. 

_There's nothing left to lose  
There's no more heart to bruise  
There's no greater power  
Than the power of good-bye. _

The minister finished the final prayer before moving to stand behind the coffin. With a solemn, sorrowful nature, he announced, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust." 

Chris watched as the man slowly, deliberately, closed the lid of the coffin. With the symbolic words and action, every last bit of strength Chris had vanished. Hot tears slipped off his lashes to race down his face.

As his big brother saw and gently pulled him to his shoulder, Chris felt his heart break all over again from this powerful goodbye.

tbc. . .


	27. Carry On Wayward Son

AN: Couple things. 1. Thanks sooo much for all the reviews for the last part. They were awesome and inspired me to make this part reaaaaaally long too. (Plus, it is possibly one of the most important chappies of the whole story) 2. WARNING THE FIRST: There is a LOT of swearing in this one. . .in a couple languages actually. . .so, if that bothers you...sorry? 3. WARNING THE SECOND: a fairly steamy scene at the end.

Okay, on with the show :)

CHAPTER 27

Carry On Wayward Son

Casey Alvarez had only ever set foot in a cemetery once before. It had been the night after her father had been buried in one. She had snuck out of her house, climbing down from the second floor balcony to jump four feet to the pavement below. In the eery moonlight, she ran the entire mile to her father's resting place, feeding the raw need to be with the one person who had ever loved her unconditionally. 

She'd collapsed on the dewy grass in front of the black marble headstone, breathing heavily as her eyes began to brim with tears from the mere thought of her vivacious father resting eternally in the ground below her. She ran her hand lightly over the grass, wondering if somehow, somewhere he could feel the gentle gesture.

Her eyes refused to look at the plaque marking his resting place. She hated the thought of the modern, sleek black marble being the only reminder to the future of who her father was. She hated the idea that three generations from now, no one would remember how he hated his too small teeth, how he loved inventing new ways to describe everyday things, how he had to read fifty pages of a book before he could even think of going to sleep at night, or how when he hugged someone, it warmed their inner most essence. Instead, all any one would see was the cold, hard stone marking the place where his body slowly decomposed.

During this adventure to the holy ground of the lost, she'd poured every emotion and thought out onto the grass below her. She'd spoken for almost two hours about every single thing she had ever wanted to tell her father. Memories both sweet and sorrowful slipped from her tongue into the midnight air. If he'd been standing before her, she was certain he never would have been able to understand a word she uttered, as broken and slurred as her spanish was through her half-sobs. Yet, even if he hadn't understood a word of what she spoke, she knew he would smile at her, kiss her on the cheek and call her his_ lucerito_.

She would trade anything in the world to hear him call her_ lucerito_ again.

"Want to share my umbrella?"

Casey was pulled from her thoughts by Wyatt's voice, soft into her ear, the warm breath sending a tingle down her neck. She turned to look at him, caught off guard by the proximity of his crisp blue eyes. They were a sharp cerulean in the grey sky of the day. She smiled, sidling up next to him to get fully protected from the sheets of rain slamming against his black umbrella.

"He's going to catch the death of him," Wyatt muttered.

The young woman didn't need to ask who he was referring to. Spotting Chris a few feet to her right, his shaggy hair plastered to his face and the back of his neck, his clothes obviously soaked through as they clung to his lithe frame. Chris never had minded getting wet. In fact, he never carried an umbrella and would always refuse one offered to him.

Chris, for his part, kept his eyes locked on the pall bearers: Bryan and three of Molly's Uncles, whose names escaped the witchlighter. He just kept watching them slowly move step by step closer to the gaping hole in the earth until finally, they rested the coffin on the support structure in place over the open grave. As the coffin landed over the grave, Chris' heart thudded loudly in his ears.

Molly was in the coffin with her too pale face, unnaturally serene, and her rose painted lips. Lips he'd kissed a thousand times, soft to the touch and sweet to taste. His Molly was in there, and they were going to stick her in the ground, cover her with dirt, and then, the world would promptly forget about her as everyone else went back to their daily lives.

Casey, turning her attention away from the pastor, moved her chocolate gaze to Chris, wanting to check on him. Her heart broke at the sheer look of pain marking his features.

Without hesitating, she left the protection of Wyatt's umbrella, moving through the ice cold rain to reach her friend's side. The other witch would have followed her, but it was at this moment his Irish charge started screaming, the call cutting through his mind. Glancing over at Chris, and seeing Casey calmly talking to him, the Twice Blessed knew his brother was in good hands. So, slipping quietly away, he orbed off to save his charge.

"It's almost over," Casey was soothingly saying.

"Not fast enough."

His companion put a hand on his arm, giving a thin lipped smile.

". . .rest in peace," the pastor finished, raising his head from a bowed position.

Rest in peace. The words summoned back to Chris' mind the image of Molly lying lifeless in his arms as he cradled her. Then, she was lying in the white satin lined coffin with her snow white face and the cold red lips. Soon, she would be buried in the ground, trapped in that very same box forever, remembered only by a few kind words on a slab of stone.

"I can't do this," Chris stated before simply vanishing.

Casey jerked back, surprised by his blatant use of magic in public. She faintly heard the jingle of bells and knew from the sound he'd orbed away. Her gaze swept through the crowd, checking to make sure no one had noticed her friend pull a Houdini. Only one little boy no more than five stood nearby staring at the spot Chris had been in, his little mouth agape.

"He's a magician," the young woman explained. "A real good one."

"Can he come to my burfday pawty?"

"Ah...sure."

As the little boy immediately scurried off with his little red umbrella to go tug on his mother's skirt, more than likely to inform her about the cool magician he'd just hired for his birthday party, Casey tried to spot Wyatt. Not finding him anywhere in the crowd, she then rushed to find Piper and Leo, who were offering their deepest condolences to Molly's mother.

"If you need anything at all, just let us know," Piper was saying.

Casey waited patiently for the adults to notice her presence. Once Leo turned to face her, she let out in a blurred rush of words, "Chris took off but I am about ninety percent sure I know where he went but Wyatt isn't anywhere around to orb me so can I please use your car?"

Barely catching what the young lady had said, Leo shifted his blue umbrella in order to dig into his pockets. After a few moments of struggling to get a grip on them, he handed her the keys. Before he could even tell her to be careful or to call if she needed help with Chris, the teenager had bolted for the street.

Piper turned to give her husband a concerned arch of her brow.

"Chris took off. Wyatt left too, I think, though in his case I don't know why. Casey borrowed the car to find Chris."

"Alone?"

"Well, yeah..."

"Leo, how could you?"

The former whitelighter's face reflected his complete confusion. "Piper, what's the matter? Casey cares about Chris. She won't let him get into too much trouble."

Piper rolled her eyes as though he were an idiot. "That's not the problem, Leo. Casey loves Chris. Chris is in mourning. God only knows what kind of situation that might cause."

"I'm not sure I. . ."

His wife gave him a pointed look.

A beat, then, "Ooh. Well, we should go after them."

"How exactly do you plan to do that? Wyatt's gone, and Casey has our only means of transportation."

Her husband pulled a face. "I'm in trouble, aren't I?'

"Oh yeah."

000

Casey slowly made her way down the stairs of P3, her eyes scanning the area for her friend. Half-way down, she spotted him on the opposite side of the bar hunched over on one of the stools, a bottle of tequila resting between his hands. He didn't seem to notice her arrival, too focused on staring at the container of booze sitting in front of him.

The young woman moved carefully toward him, much like a hunter after dangerous prey. She knew one false step would send him orbing away, and his next destination wouldn't be nearly so accessible to someone without the ability to transport themselves through space in the blink of an eye. Not to mention she wasn't terribly fond of heights, and the Golden Gate Bridge was far more than she could handle in that regard.

As she got closer she spotted a bottle of vodka fallen to the floor, also completely drained of whatever contents it previously held. The bottle he was currently working on looked nearly drained as well. Depending on how full the two bottles were when he started, Chris was well on his way to a trip to the ER to get his stomach pumped.

The young man raised the bottle, closing his eyes and taking a long shot of the tequila before dropping the bottle back down on the bar top. His dull green eyes remained focused on the water ring where the beverage had previously sat. "What are you doing here?"

"With any luck _not_ calling an ambulance."

"After everyone leaves, they're going to stick her in the ground. Like fucking fertilizer."

Casey felt her own chest clench from remembering her thoughts regarding her father's fate. She'd felt the same way.

"You shouldn't be here."

His friend finally reached a place about arm's length from him. Her eyes slid to the tequila. Only a shot or two left. She wondered if she had quick enough reflexes to snatch it from him. "I'm worried about you."

"I'm sure," Chris shot, his eyes finally snapping over to land on her face. An anger boiled within them, only tempered by pain and a dullness induced by the amount of alcohol consumed in such a short amount of time.

Taken back by the rage in his tone and eyes, Casey almost took a step back away from him. Almost. Recognizing a typical Chris defense mechanism, she held her ground instead. "Why did you say it like that?"

The witchlighter swivelled on the stool to face her. His entire body language radiated a hot ire as he stared at her with a scathing glare. "You're glad she's dead and gone. You're just happy the competition is out of the way, so you can go ahead and kiss me and try to convince me just what a fucking great friend you are."

It was swift. So fast the young man had no chance to avoid it. Before he could even finish the last word, Casey's hand was slapping the side of his face, nearly knocking him from the stool. As he sat, shocked beyond measure, his hand up next to the bright red mark already claiming the place she'd hit him, he saw his friend shaking– from wrath or sadness he couldn't tell.

"_Chingate, Cabron. No puedo creerlo. Jamas, yo pudiera pensar en lo que dices. Pendejo_."

"If you're going yell at me, do it in English. I'm too drunk to understand Spanish right now."

"I said fuck you, you son of a bitch. I can't believe you could possibly believe I would think that way. You're an asshole."

Chris' head bobbed up and down slowly. "Ookay. So, you'll be going then?"

Casey hesitated. She wanted to leave. She wanted to let him sit here in the dark drinking himself into an ambulance at this point. However, her anger and pride decided a different outcome. "No. I wouldn't give you the satisfaction. You may want to push me away because, let's face it, it's your favorite M.O., but you are not allowed under any circumstance to get your way after a shitty comment like that. However, you are not allowed to speak to me that way ever again, or it really will be the last time you ever speak to me. Got it?"

Chris opened his mouth, prepared to argue, to say the next awful thing to pop into his mind, but looking at her standing before him, seeing the look of both determination and love (of course the latter was hard to see under the blind rage...), he couldn't go on. The air deflated from him. Instead, by way of apology, he reached over the bar to grab a glass, pouring her a drink from what was left of the tequila. "You stay, you drink."

Recognizing the make-shift olive branch, the other witch let her look soften again. "I don't drink."

"Like hell you don't. Remember the party at Kip's a few years ago?" His face actually broke into a small smile at the memory. "You got up on the table and started singing along with the music and doing the little dance..."

"Which is _why_ I don't drink anymore," she replied, her cheeks turning bright red. "It takes all of about two drinks before I'm looped out of my head. Besides, you've had waaay too much already."

"They were almost empty anyway. I haven't had that much." He touched his finger to his nose with expert precision. "I can walk a line for you if you still doubt me. No? Okay then. Now, like I said before: You stay; you drink."

He held the glass up to her again.

Rolling her eyes, the young woman yanked the glass from his hand, scrunching up her nose before taking a shot from the glass. As it burned down her throat she pulled a face, slamming the glass onto the bar top. "I hate tequila."

"You're latin. Isn't it like water to you?" he teased.

She oh so delicately stuck her tongue out at him before hopping up onto the bar top. Swinging her legs over, she jumped down behind the bar, filling one of the mugs with the dark beer on tap. Then, setting her drink back on the bar, she hopped back up, swinging her legs around once more, so she could face Chris.

"The black thing right below you is called a stool. You sit on them."

"They're not comfy."

Time from then began to slow. Drinks kept flowing almost as fast as the conversation drifted from subject to subject. The mood at the beginning of their meeting in the club was long forgotten, and mirth the new feeling in the air. No one mentioned death, funerals, fathers or girlfriends. The topics ranged from whether or not dogs without tails were teased by other dogs all the way to which sex had it worse. It was during the battle of the sexes the blood to alcohol ratio was clearly at its worst for both present.

"Oh, get off it, Chris," Casey was saying, gesturing with her drink so much, the amber liquid was spilling all over her, the bar and the floor. "When men have to stick a stick of cotton anywhere down there, _then _we'll talk."

"That's just nasty," Chris slurred, his face contorting into disgust. "Seriously, do women always have to go there?"

"Can you think of _algo_ worse?"

"Did you just use spanglish?" Chris started laughing. "You didn't even know it. That's awesome. Then again, I love when you speak spanish, spanish. You know? It's like your tongue does that crazy thing on the roof of your mouth, and it makes the one sound...you know, the one...with the crazy flicking..."

He moved to take a drink from his glass. When no alcohol touched his tongue, instead of realizing the cup was empty, he merely titled it further upward. Then, started tapping the bottom as though some was stuck like one might find in a ketchup bottle. When even this brilliant technique gave no results, he lowered the glass and frowned into it. "Mine's deficient."

"Deficient. People don't use that word enough. It's a good word. Like indubidibibily. No one ever uses it."

"Not like that they don't," Chris laughed. "You sound stoned."

"It's hard to say. You try it."

"In-due-bid-ab-ly. Ha. See. No problem."

"Say it faster, Cheater."

"Indoobubbly."

Casey started laughing so hard she nearly fell from her perch on top of the bar, almost taking a header backwards. She was able to grab the front edge to keep herself from doing so, though.

Chris moved to help her fully regain her balance, putting his hands around her waist to stabilize her. He felt the dampness of her dress from the rain earlier. The cotton was even softer under his hands.

Without thinking, he raised his eyes, inching them slowly over her, his breathing getting heavier as he noticed the way the wet fabric molded to her curves, the way her chest moved as she kept laughing. His gaze slid up to her delicate collarbone, traced its way up her olive skinned neck to her coral colored lips.

"What's wrong?" Casey asked, sobering slightly at how dark his green eyes had suddenly become.

Emerald eyes flickered to her chocolate pair for only a moment before his hand slid up her neck, burying itself in her damp hair while his other hand took residence behind her neck, which he slowly pressured to come down to him until her mouth met his. His lips teased hers, soft for a moment before pressing more firmly against hers while slipping off her coat and tossing it behind him.

Casey gently pushed her hands against his chest, pulling away. She frowned down at him. "What are you doing?"

"You are so beautiful." He slid his mouth to her neck, sucking on the tender flesh behind her ear before whispering. "I need you right now."

The young woman closed her eyes at the feel of his hot, moist kisses moving down her neck. She moaned, partly in pleasure and partly in frustration. Again, she pushed him back. "I can't do this. Mol– "

He wouldn't let her say the name. No part of him could bear to hear it. If he thought about her, even for a second, he would fall, sink, drown, break, shatter into a thousand pieces. He couldn't take anymore of it. And with the alcohol coursing through his very male, very hot blood right now, only one thing was allowed in his mind, which wasn't being controlled by any rational thoughts right now.

In order to stop her, he claimed her mouth again, the passion upped as he slipped his tongue through her defenses, letting it move in just the way he knew she loved. Then, to seal the deal, he gently sucked on her lower lip while putting his hands to her lower back and sliding her to the front edge of the bar top so her legs were around him. Then, let his hand slowly slide up her skirt.

For Casey, everything after this point became a blur. Chris undoing her bra and tossing it behind the bar. His mouth on her collarbone then back to her lips. Her nimbly undoing ever last one of his buttons until his bare chest was free for her to caress and kiss. Her hands working in tandem with her mouth while she both nibbled his ear and unhooked his belt, ripping it free from the loops with one slick motion.

He took her right there on top of the bar. It was explosive, each moaning and callling out at the peak of it all.

When it was done, the two moved to the floor, lying on the pile of clothes accumulated there. Casey laid her head on Chris' chest, her hand wrapped around him, while his stayed firmly around her.

"Wow," Casey murmured, tracing figures on his chest.

"Mmhmm," Chris mumbled, his eyes already closed.

The young woman smiled softly, more content than she'd been in almost two years. Without thinking, she softly ventured, "I love you, Chris."

The witchlighter shifted his head, nearly asleep as he replied, "I love you too, Molly."

The other lover's head immediately twisted to look at him, but his eyes were blissfully closed, missing the utter heartbreak written in her face. She swallowed down her emotions as she rose from her position on the floor.

Tearing her dress out from under his back, she hurried to get dressed, finding her undergarments behind the bar. Keeping tears at bay, she returned to Chris' side, shaking him lightly. "Get dressed. We have to go. People will be here any minute."

He shifted on the ground, his eyes opening only to reveal no real life behind them. Despite his obvious drunken, sleepy state, he managed to slowly, haphazardly get dressed. He then opened his arms toward Casey, saying through a yawn,"Okay, let's orb."

She forced a small smile to her face, shaking her head. "You just go straight to bed. I have the car."

"Mmm...kay."

As he went up in a shower of lights, the young woman ran to and up the stairs, threw open the doors, pausing only long enough to check the automatic locking system before continuing her race to the parking lot through the still pouring rain, freezing as she had completely forgotten her coat back in the club. Yet somehow, she didn't really feel her bones turning to ice inside of her. All she could feel was the dull ache in her tightened chest as she fumbled with the keys several times before managing to open the door and crawl inside.

Once inside the car, she rested her suddenly completely sobered head onto the steering wheel letting long, wracking sobs escape her as tears from the heavens pounded down onthe windshield.

000

Wyatt Halliwell, upon returning from Ireland, immediately sensed for his brother. He was more than a little surprised to find Chris back at the Manor. Deciding to check up on the kid, he orbed straight home, marching directly to his brother's bedroom, where he'd pinpointed the younger witch's location.

Sliding open the door, he smiled softly as he found Chris, messily clothed in his dress pants and shirt sound asleep and snoring quietly on top of his bed. The Twice Blessed, satisfied with what he'd found, closed the door again.

Just as he was about to head into his own room to change, he saw Casey coming up the stairs, her eyes red and puffy, her mascara leaving trails down her face as she hugged herself. It was clear she was freezing the way her whole body was shivering and her small chin quivered.

"Casey?" He quickly took off his dress coat, moving to wrap her up in it. He rubbed her arms, trying to get her at least a little warmer. "Where have you been? Where's your coat?"

Instead of answering him, she let his coat fall off her arms, jumping into his and burying her face into his chest. She murmured incoherently, her grip on him so tight he almost couldn't breathe.

He gently pried her away, frowning down into her face. "You're scaring me. What happened?"

"Epiphany," she mumbled, her eyes downcast.

In that moment, she looked so small. Like a little girl instead of a nearly full grown woman. The Twice Blessed couldn't help but pull her back into his arms, stroking her dripping wet hair. "It's okay. You don't have to tell me. It's all right. Let's just get you into some dry clothes, okay? Can we do that?"

She nodded, still keeping her eyes down.

The Twice Blessed took her tiny hand in his big one, leading her carefully down the hall toward his room. He wasn't sure what he owned capable of staying on her tiny frame, but he knew she couldn't stay in what she was currently in without risking getting terribly sick.

Once inside his room, he closed the door quietly behind them, moving quickly to his dresser, digging through it. He shot back over his shoulder, "Maybe, when you're dried off, I can make you some tea. Mom always says tea fixes everything."

No response.

He looked over at her, finding a solitary tear trickling down her cheek as she stared off into his cream colored carpet. She was biting her bottom lip and holding herself– both signs of emotional trauma when it came to Casey.

Pulling out a pair of sweat pants he'd owned during his years in jr. high, which seemed likely to fit her to some degree (thereby proving being a packrat came in handy now and again) Wyatt moved to pull out a long sleeved tee from another drawer. He offered both to her.

She numbly took them, and as Wyatt turned around, took off her sopping wet dress and changed into the dry clothes. In a soft, mono-toned voice she said, "You can turn around."

"Good. This is good. Tea then."

"No." Her eyes darted up to his, a childlike innocence in her gaze, which Wyatt hadn't seen in them since they actually were children. Her voice was minuscule as she unsurely asked, "Do you really love me?"

Taken back by the question, Wyatt stumbled to find the power of speech. "Wha? I mean. . .of course, I do. Yes, I love you."

Tears dived from her lashes. "You shouldn't."

"We've had this conversation before. Remember? Up in the attic? I told you, real love is when you see someone with all their flaws and love them for the whole package. Good, bad, and ugly. I don't know what happened today, or where this is coming from, but, Casey, I don't care what you may have done. It won't change my mind."

"I almost think you mean it."

"I do. Love should be pretty much unconditional as far as I'm concerned."

"I don't want to be alone right now." She swallowed hard, trying to get control. "Will you lay with me?"

"For as long as you want."

The young woman crawled up onto the bed, hugging her knees until Wyatt got into the bed on the other side, at which point she buried her head against his shoulder, moving to hold him tightly. The Twice Blessed returned the embrace, keeping a firm arm around her.

Resting his head lightly on top of hers, he whispered, "You're safe with me. Nothing bad is going to happen now."

Clasping a fistful of his shirt, she let out a shaky breath, all energy within her going with the breath. "It should have always been you..."

"What?"

Unfortunately, Casey had already fallen asleep in his arms.

tbc. . .


	28. Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

CHAPTER 28

Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow?

_The house was full of streamers, balloons, graffiti and relatives, most of whom the birthday girl had never even met before._ _Her father told her they were aunts and uncles and cousins visiting from Chicago and New Mexico. At the time, Casey only cared for the one named Guillermo because when he'd showed up to their house, he'd given her a small yarn doll he'd bought at a market near the Mexican border. It had long black hair with a pink ribbon and a bright, multi- colored traditional dress. She immediately named the doll Dara and kept it near her at all times. _

She still had it to this day.

_Guillermo was the youngest of her father's fourteen siblings. He was a construction worker who traveled wherever the job took him. It just generally ended up being somewhere in New Mexico. After saving up for several years, the baby of the family had decided to come visit his big brother, and see the niece he'd never laid eyes on. _

"Oye_," he'd whispered to her in a conspiratorial tone. "Who's the boy there?" _

_Casey giggled as she spotted ten year old Wyatt Halliwell trying to get away from her eleven year old cousin, Linda, who had decided to follow the young blonde boy like a second shadow, making eyes at him and trying to convince him to play with her. "That's just Wyatt. He's my friend. He's silly."_

_"You think he's cute, eh?"_

_She shook her head. "No. He's Wyatt."_

_Guillermo pulled his niece onto his lap, smiling down at her with the same smile her father had– tiny teeth almost brilliant in their level of whiteness and a manner capable of putting anyone at ease. "You like _el otro? Quien es_?"_

_Casey spotted Chris coming to Wyatt's rescue, pulling his older brother over to the table harboring the cake. "The other one is Chris. He's my best friend in the whole world." With all the sincerity an eight year old can muster, " I'm going marry him someday." _

_The large man laughed heartily, patting the little girl affectionately on the arm. "Already a little woman. Don't you know love cannot be planned? It must be_ una sorpesa, Princesa_. Or else, what is the fun in it, no?" _

Casey didn't know why she was thinking about her uncle when she woke up. Perhaps, it was because after all this time, she'd never grown up from the little girl who'd sat on his lap and dreamed of marrying her best friend. While she'd grown taller and in many ways more intelligent, she hadn't given up her naivety in the concepts surrounding love. She had believed in love at first sight, in soul consuming passion and love never dying.

She didn't believe in any of those things anymore.

As she sat in Wyatt's bed, the comforter pulled up to her chin the morning after the biggest mistake in her long list of mistakes, Casey realized just how skewed her vision of life had been. In all her memories of her childhood, she'd never seen the truth. Her gaze was always so fixated on Chris, who– looking back on events with a new perspective– was a good friend but not always the healthiest for her to be around, she never noticed Wyatt, always present and focused completely on her best interests. With Chris she had experienced passion. With Wyatt she realized she'd learned love.

"Hey, you're awake."

The young woman could have sobbed for her own stupidity as she saw the Twice Blessed himself carrying in a tray with a visible glass of orange juice, and what she surmised was breakfast. Instead of tears, she found an irremovable smile reaching to her lips from her heart and shining through her deep brown eyes back at the young man before her.

Wyatt set the tray down on her lap before clambering back into bed next to her. "So, firstly, Mom called in the school for you and Chris today since she knows yesterday was so hard on all of us. Secondly, my class got cancelled, so I'll be hanging out here too. Lastly, I'm sorry the breakfast isn't better, but I didn't think you'd want food poisoning."

The other witch couldn't have wished for anything better when she saw the bowl of oatmeal and the semi-burned toast with a smiley face made of grape jelly. She raised her eyes. "You really are an angel."

"Half of one anyway," he replied with a grin. "I'm really just trying to seduce you, and I figured I had to strike while the iron is hot."

She quirked a brow, not quite understanding.

"You don't remember what you said, do you?" he asked, his face falling.

"Oh," she blushed, turning her eyes away. "Actually, I do."

"I was just kidding about this being a tool to seduce you, you know. I mean, you�were really upset, so of course, I'm not going to hold you to what you said. I probably shouldn't have even brought it up."

Casey's eyes shot back to his. "I meant it."

Wyatt's face went blank.

"You don't believe me..."

No change.

"I know this seems out of left field. It kind of isn't though. You have always been my safe haven. I just didn't realize why until last night. Not that I'm making this decision because I'm upset. I'm not upset right now. I'm thinking more clearly than I ever have before, actually. I think you and I could actually be the real deal. It scares me. I'm going to be really honest. It scares the hell out of me because you are the one I always run to, and if something goes wrong, I don't know what I'd do because whose shoulder do you cry on when the shoulder you normally cry on is the one making you cry? I'm babbling, aren't I? I'm going to shut up now."

The future King Arthur opened his mouth, an almost unnoticeable smile pulling at his mouth. "Could you go back to the part where you said you meant it when you told me it should have been me all along?"

Casey rolled her eyes even as she softly laughed. "I, Casey Alvarez, am telling you, Wyatt Halliwell, I have been blindly stupid, and if you'll still have me, I want to be with you. On one condition."

"Condition?"

"Don't worry, it's not so bad. It's just, I need to take things really slow. I get that we've already slept together, but it was a mistake then. I want the next time to be right, when we're both ready."

Wyatt grinned, putting a hand on her cheek. "Case, I'm just happy you think there _will_ be a next time. I don't care how long I have to wait. Just thinking someday. . .all I need."

"Okay, here's the hard part. I have to tell you something, and you're not going to like it."

"It's okay. I know."

"You know? What do you mean you know? What do you think you know?"

The all powerful witch's voice was unnaturally soft as he answered, "You and Chris had sex last night. That's what you were going to tell me?"

His companion's mouth fell open, as she tried to find the words to explain, but in the end, everything sounded so contrite in her mind. Gathering her courage up, she finally just nodded, biting her lower lip. When he didn't say anything, she looked up to find him calmly staring at her. His eyes, clear from judgement, was what finally brought tears welling to her eyes again. "It was a mistake. I tried to stop it, but he was so...I couldn't. It was all wrong, though. It's when I realized you're the one I want to be with. You're the best thing that could happen to me. You've got to believe me, Wyatt. I'm not saying this because I'm broken hearted. I'm saying it because I finally see the truth. Say something."

"It hurts like hell."

"I'm sorry. You have no idea how much I wish I could take it back."

"You had to figure it out for yourself. I always knew you and Chris were a volatile combo. I was actually scared for the day everything would blow up. I think that day was last night. He broke you. Part of you is changed now. I can see it in your eyes."

"I'm changed. You're right. It's because I'm different that I understand us. I thought if there wasn't burning passion there couldn't be love, but it's not true. You and me. . .I think we could have the kind of love your parents have. . .if I haven't already blown it."

Wyatt let out a breath. "You don't seem to understand. . ."

Casey held her breath, waiting for the blow to her heart to come.

". . .my feelings for you won't change. I've said it a hundred times before: good, bad, ugly. This just happens to be really ugly. But, in all fairness, we weren't together last night. I don't have a right to be all that upset. It's not like I was your boyfriend then. See, you sleep with Chris today, I'll have to kill him and then orb you onto the ledge of a volcano."

Laughing softly, Casey was actually able to smile. "I think that sounds more than reasonable."

"I also think we need to take things snail slow. I want to make sure you're one-hundred percent in this for the right reasons. I want you to be with me for me. Not to get over Chris."

"I understand, but I want you to know, after last night, I am over him. Something happened he can't take back, and I– "

Her statement was cut off when a loud thud resounded through the thin walls of the manor. 

Without even so much as a word, the two were on their feet and heading out of the bedroom to see if a demon had attacked. They didn't get far before they realized a demon had not in fact been the cause of the crash. The pair realized this as they heard a stream of swearing pouring from Chris' bedroom, and he stumbled out into the hall with a sheet still tangled around his ankle. 

Wyatt raised his brows. "Hey, Little Brother, bad morning?"

Chris winced. "Dude, why are you yelling?"

It was then the brunet witchlighter closed his eyes, gripping onto the wall, obviously struggling to keep down whatever happened to be in his stomach. After a moment, the battle was lost, and he disappeared in a flurry of orbs.

"Good thing Mom called in. . ." 

"No kidding."

"Should we check on him?"

"I'm not the best person to ask right now."

The Twice Blessed heard the hacking coming from the bathroom. He put his arm around Casey and turned her back toward his bedroom. "You know what? I find myself not caring this time. Let him puke his guts out. Serves him right."

Twenty minutes later, as Wyatt and Casey were lying on the former's bed, sharing the last piece of smiley face covered toast, Chris stumbled into the doorway of his big brother's room. When he saw the cozy nature of the other two he frowned, not sure what to make of it.

"Feel better?" the older brother asked, a large, rather pleased smile on his face.

Chris groaned. "Save the lecture, Wy. So not needed."

"Debatable."

"Please? Can we at least save it till I don't feel like I'm dying?"

"Fine, but be forewarned it will be coming."

"Deal. Case, can I talk to you for a minute?"

She shot a look to Wyatt, clearly not wanting to go with the younger witchlighter. Her new boyfriend gave her hand a squeeze in encouragement. He kissed her cheek, taking the opportunity to whisper in her ear, "You have to face him sometime."

Chris spotted the kiss and felt his brow furrow even further.

Taking a deep breath, Casey swung her legs to the edge of the bed, lightly hopping down and following the other teenager out of the room. 

The young man went straight into his own, and after his friend had entered, closed the door behind her. When he turned to look at her, it was obvious she would rather be anywhere else in the world. She wouldn't look at him. It stung.

"What do you want?" she asked.

"What was with you and Wyatt back there? You two were almost acting like some sort of– "

"– Couple. We are."

Chris' mouth fell open, his eyebrows rising. "You...you what? Since when?"

"This morning."

"This morning?"

"Yeah. Is that all you wanted?"

"Since when have you _ever_ had a thing for Wyatt? I mean, he's Wyatt. Not to mention my brother which is just a little awkward."

Casey shook her head, her jaw setting. 

Chris noticed her anger on the climb. "Hey, you know what? If you two can be happy together, that's great. I know no one could take better care of you and vice versa. Could be a really awesome thing. As weird as it'll be at first, I'll get over it– promise."

"You didn't pull me in here to talk about me and Wyatt. So why did you?"

The young man ran a hand through his hair, trying to figure out how to word his problem. "Last night. . .I had a _lot_ to drink. Way more than I ever have before, which is probably why my head feels like it's splitting, everything is spinning and I feel like vomiting some more. The thing is, when I woke up this morning, everything about last night was sort of. . .a blur."

"A blur?"

"I know, I know, you warned me not to drink so much. I just didn't realize how much I'd had. Now, I don't really remember much about last night."

"You don't remember? How is that possible?"

Chris shrugged. "I don't know. It's like after a certain point, it's all gone. I remember you coming, and I remember us having some drinks and talking and laughing. But, the rest. . .it's like a big hole. Only, I have a feeling something important happened. Something I am starting to feel really pissed you off. You clearly remember. Right?"

"Yeah."

"So?"

"So what?"

"So could you please fill in the giant blank spot for me? I don't like having a chunk of time missing. Especially not when it seems I did or said something really stupid."

Casey wanted to tell him. She wanted to let him know just what he'd done and said, and how she wasn't any where near ready to forgive him for it. However, as she opened her mouth ready to fill in the massive blank in his memory, orb lights coalesced next to Chris, and all her words disappeared from her mind at the sight of who it was to arrive.

Molly, bathed in a heavenly glow, ran to Chris, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying herself in his embrace. "Chris. I wanted to see you again so much, but they wouldn't let me until now. It was only a week, but it felt like forever just because I knew I couldn't see you. Couldn't talk to you."

Chris' hangover was immediately pushed to the furthest corner of his mind as he felt the woman he loved in his arms again. "I was scared it was forever."

"Me too."

"Are you really back now? To stay?"

"Prue said the elders gave the word. She and Andy will be coming back too now. We all get to stay. You must have done something to change things."

Casey flashed to the night before. She and Chris up on the bar top having sex. _Done something to change things_. . 

The pieces of the puzzle fell into place. Chris had told her what the Elders said to him about his having another destiny for a little while. Yes, all of twenty minutes or so he was needed to fulfill a new destiny. Twenty minutes would result in a consequence lasting for the rest of their lives. Because Phoebe's premonition had not been fulfilled by Wyatt.

"Oh my God."

"Casey," Molly greeted. "You're okay. Thank goodness. I was so worried about you and the baby."

"There isn't one," Chris explained. "Turns out she wasn't pregnant."

"Oh. Well, I'm still glad _you're_ okay then."

Casey let out a short laugh. "Okay? Right. That's me. I'm just super."

Molly shot a confused look to her boyfriend, who subtly shrugged.

"I'm going to go," the time stopping witch announced. "I'm very glad you're back, Molly. You belong here. With Chris. I'll just not be here, and you two can talk and, ah, stuff. You know. Whatever you two crazy kids want to do."

As Casey hurried from the room, Chris shot a worried look after her. Babbling was never a good sign from that woman.

"Is she okay?"

"I don't know," Chris answered honestly. He turned his attentions back to the whitelighter. He slipped his hand to the side of her face, lightly brushing his thumb over her cheek. "I'll fix it later. Right now, I just want to spend every second with you."

The young woman smiled up at him with complete adoration. "I know exactly what you mean."

000

"Shit, shit, shit."

Wyatt looked up from his laptop as his girlfriend came charging into the room. "Went that well, huh?"

"Molly's back."

"What?"

"She's back. In his room. _Right now_. The Elders sent her back. Because," Casey started pacing back and forth in front of the Twice Blessed, who was following her every movement like she was a tennis ball. "Because she doesn't _need_ to be gone anymore. No reason for her to stay away. Damage has already been done. Enough damage to bring down absolutely everyone, which is just so great. I think it's the Elder's past time to stir up trouble. They must sit on their high and mighty clouds and figure out new and interesting ways to mess up our lives."

"It's my mom's working theory. Care to explain why you've jumped on the bandwagon? Especially considering they just sent back a good friend of mine? Chris' true love. The woman responsible for you still breathing."

Casey halted in her tracks. "I'm glad Molly's back, Wyatt. I'm not saying that. I'm saying why the hell did they have to take her in the first place? Do you want to know why because I have the answer."

"Shoot."

"Phoebe's premonition, Wyatt."

The Twice Blessed's face went slack. "No..."

"I think so."

He looked up at her, his eyes pained. "You think you're pregnant with my little brother's child?"

Casey shook her head helplessly. "I don't know what else to think. It fits. Chris having a destiny needing Molly to be gone...and Phoebe's premonition showing me not looking any differently...Molly said she was allowed to come back only because something had changed...I don't want it to be true, Wyatt, but I'm not seeing how it can't be."

Wyatt, for Casey's sake, fought to keep the emotion from his voice. "What did Chris say about it?"

"He doesn't remember last night. There's no way he could figure it out."

Wyatt ran his hands over his face before looking up at Casey again. "If Molly finds out, I'm not sure she'd be able to forgive him. She'd see it as betrayal since she wasn't really totally dead. Not to mention she'd get all crazy jealous of you again. It'd be the end of them."

Casey flopped onto the bed, groaning. "This sucks. I'm pissed at him, but I don't want him to lose the woman he loves. Especially now we're together.� We should all get to be happy."

The blonde smiled entwining his fingers with hers. "We're together.� I am never going to get tired of the sound of that."

"Focus, please."

"Right. Okay, maybe you're right. Maybe, you are pregnant with Chris' baby."

"I think I might be sick."

"I don't think you can have morning sickness this soon into it."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Not from that. From this situation."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry," the young woman softly murmured. "I know even the thought of it has to be killing you."

Wyatt forced a smile. "Can't change what's already been done. I'll live."

"You're in pain."

"Yup. The thought of you carrying Chris' baby pretty much makes me want to blow something up. However, if I lost control of my emotions like that all the time, the city would have been destroyed a long time ago. I've learned to cope."

Casey lowered her eyes. "You shouldn't have to cope with something like this. This is the first day of us as a couple, and already I'm breaking your heart."

The young man gently lifted her chin with his hand. "I'm a big boy. I can take it. Besides, I think I have a way to fix everyone's problems."

"I don't think that's possible but shoot."

"If you are pregnant, I think I should be the father."

"What?"

Wyatt took Casey's hands in his, staring into her eyes. "If you're pregnant, I think we should say the baby is mine."

tbc. . .

dun, dun, dun!


	29. Break Me, Shake Me

AN: As always, thanks for all the support on this story!This chapter was in part inspired by Eugeblack, so I am officially dedicating it to you, hon ;) WARNING: For those of you uncomfortable with physical scenes skip down to the 000 Once the heavy kissing starts. You won't miss anything too vital to the plot,and you can probablyfigureout what happendthrough what characters say)

Now, on with the story!

CHAPTER 29

Break Me, Shake Me

As Molly closed her eyes, her head resting on Chris' chest, listening to his strong heart beat through the cotton fabric of his t-shirt, she began to realize just how much she had missed being with him. For as long as she could remember, she had never felt safer or more valued than when she was with Chris.

She smiled as she recalled the first night she began to fall in love with the man before her.

_Molly stared down at her water glass, avoiding the intense gaze of the teen in front of her. She gestured vaguely at herself. "What's there to be confident about. People are right. I'm not exactly beautiful now am I?" _

_Chris looked her straight in the eyes. "I think you are."_

It had been Prom night of the year before when her life had changed forever due to a blind date who had ended up being her real life prince charming. He gave her strength when she didn't think she had any...

_"Then trust me when I tell you that you can do this, and I'll help you through it." _

_Molly quirked an eyebrow at him. "Why do you care? You didn't want to do this either."_

_"Honestly? Because you need this."_

_"You're willing to suffer complete and total humiliation just for me?"_

_Chris shrugged, his bangs falling into his jadeeyes. "Won't be so bad if you're right by my side."_

He'd shown her what it was like to fall helplessly, hopelessly and completely in love. . .

_Molly glanced back at the bleachers, assuming her date wouldn't be comfortable slow dancing with her, but was surprised to find Chris' hand on her arm. She glanced back at him to find him smiling shyly. _

_"If you aren't too embarrassed by my dancing, I'd like the honor."_

_The young girl's mouth fell open as her heart leapt into her throat blocking any verbal response. As she numbly took his offered hand and he pulled her into position for a slow dance, his hand in the curve of her back, the other hand in hers, she couldn't help but feel she was suddenly living someone else's life. Surely things like this didn't happen to girls like her. A guy as good looking and funny and charming as Chris Halliwell does not say something so romantic to a girl who looks like her. Prince Charming falls for Cinderella at first sight because she looks like she could be related to Barbie, not for her sparkling personality. So, how could any of this be real?_

_Molly had always been a hopeless romantic, and had heard and read a million times that there were certain moments in a person's life when the world fades away to a blur and the moment slows down, leaving you to feel frozen in an instant, feeling every second more acutely than at any other time in your life, burning those emotions into your heart for the rest of your life. This was one of those moments. _

_Molly finally understood the phrase 'floating on air' because in this moment, during this dance, that's exactly how she would have described herself. In the arms of this handsome, kind young man, she felt happier and freer than she ever had before. Her mind was shut down, not concentrating on the moves of the dance or on thinking about those that might be watching her or even what Chris himself might be thinking. Her emotions were ruling her, filling her with light and gentle warmth._

_The only thing that mattered was this moment. Chris' green eyes looking down at her with a strange sparkle, his little grin playing on the corner of his mouth. His hot hand on the small of her back. The way they moved together, flowing across the dance floor as if they had danced this dance a thousand times before and would continue to dance it a thousand more times. _

"I can't believe you're really here," Chris' soft voice interrupted her reverie. His breath was hot against her ear as he partly buried his face in herhair, all the while making sure to keephis hands firmlyaround her waist as though afraid she would disappear again if he didn't keep holding her.

Mollylooked up into his soft green eyes, noticing with a hitch in her heartbeat the moisture creating the shine in them. She put her hand up to his cheek, reveling in the feel of him leaning into her touch. Her soft pink lips curled upward. "I knew I loved you before, but being torn away from you. . .I thought I would break."

"I did," Chris quietly admitted. His mind raced back to the image of her body, deathly cold in its wooden tomb. "Yesterday. . .it was just yesterday I saw you lying there in that damn _box_, and you were so pale and so still. People were saying goodbye, and I knew you were out there somewhere, but it felt like you were gone forever. Then at the cemetery. . .god, Molly, I saw the hole in the ground, and I felt like I was going down there with you."

"I'm so sorry. So, _so_ sorry, Chris. I can't imagine how awful it must have been to see me like that. What you must have been feeling."

"I don't want to think about it. You're here now," he smiledsoftly as he movedone handfrom her waist in order to run his fingers throughher soft ringlets. "I'm never going to let anything happen to you again."

"You didn't let it happen the first time, Chris. We both knew this was my destiny eventually. It's actually not so bad. We could have been forced apart for good."

Chris rested his forehead against hers. "Let's not talk about that, okay?"

She nodded, the corner of her mouth twisting up in a grin. "Then, let's savor the moment."

Taking her hand and slipping it around his neck she brought his lips down to hers. As their tongues got re-acquainted, the couple slowly made their way over to the comfort of the bed, falling backward onto the mattress. As their bodies landed with a slight bounce, both paused long enough to smile at the other, letting out short laughs before continuing.

Chris moved to slip his arm under her back, pulling her up a little as he moved his warm kisses to her neck, nibbling on her ear, only pausing long enough to whisper, "I love you."

The young woman's smile reached across her face both at the feel of his hand running down her side, his trail of kisses moving ever more slowly down her neck, and most of all at the words she'd missed hearing so much during their separation.

Molly, taking uncharacteristic control, suddenly rolled Chris onto his back, straddling his waist and laughing lightly as his eyebrows shot up in obvious appreciation of her new attitude. The young woman, a mischievous grin growing, slowly pulled up the edge of his t-shirt, trailing hot moist kisses from his stomach slowlyup to his chest, at which juncture she yanked off the hateful garment all together before sliding her hands over his pecs.

"Mmm, Molly," Chris murmured. "God, I have missed you."

Soaking up his words like warm summer sunshine, she returned her mouth to his while her hand went to his draw strings.

Chris slowly pulled back, frowning up at her in confusion. "What are you doing?"

"I love you. I have missed you. I'm now working on removing your pants. Put the pieces together, Chris," she teased.

The young man moved out from under her, propping himself up on one elbow. "What about waiting? I mean, don't get me wrong, I want to– so freaking bad right now– but I don't want you to do anything you're going to regret."

"Chris, I had no idea when or even if I was going to see you again. And now we're together; I don't want to waste a single second."

"But your plans...for the wedding night?"

Molly blushed, pushing a stray strand back behind her ear. "Chris, I'm dead."

"Didn't stop my Dad from getting married."

"Okay, and that's great. However, my being deadsort of puts things into perspective. While waiting is great, and I still value the ideal. . .it's not for me anymore. I realized how precious time together is, and I want to experience this with you while I can."

"While you can?" Chris put his hand to her cheek. "Baby, you're not going anywhere. I won't let you. If you still want to wait, we will."

Molly pushed him lightly backward back onto the bed, claiming his mouth. She ran her tongue teasingly over his lips before pulling back up. "In case you haven't noticed, I've changed my mind. So, will you please shut up and let me take off your pants?"

Seeing the clarity in her eyes and feeling the want in her kisses, Chris knew she was sure about this. So, instead of answering, the young man pulled her back down to him, letting his feelings for her be perfectly clear through his kisses. As his mouth moved with hers, his fingers deftly inched down the front of her shirt,slowly popping open the buttons one by one until the blouse fell open. It took little time for him to finish removing it. He eyed her shirtless form with appreciation before undoing the clasp of her bra. With sensual slowness, he then slid the straps from her shoulders, letting the garment fall away from her. Without the hindrance of a bra to impede his ministrations, the hot blooded male did as men do, letting his hands move to the newly revealed flesh, smiling as she gave a little moan while a pleased smile covered her flushed face.

With more caution he moved a hand toward the top of her jeans, fingering the button. As it came undone, he paused, looking up into her eyes, making sure she really wanted him to continue.

Her eyes closed and she gave a little nod, the anticipation high.

Newly assured, Chris continued.

The intensity of their mutual desire only continued to climb as they shared new intimate experiences. By the time they had fully explored every part of the other, the two were both more than ready to consummate the love between them. 

"You still sure about this? I can stop..." Chris offered, as he held himself above her. 

"I want to," she breathed, her eyes as lusty as his own.

The young man turned toward the night stand resting by his bedside, opening the drawer and removing a condom. When precautions had been taken, he kissed her forehead and softly asked, "Are you ready?"

She bit her lip nervously, nodding.

Then, they were truly one. 

There was pleasure and pain. Wincing and comforting. Through it all, on both ends there was love. A sweet, gentle love. It was slow and careful and cared more for the other's happiness than anything else. 

When it was over, Chris was holding his lover in his arms, and the only thing he could possibly feel or remember was the woman he loved. With a soft smile, irremovable on his lips, he held her tightly against his chest, laying sweet kisses on the back of her head and on her bare shoulder while he fought to stay awake and enjoy the feel of her against him.

Chris longed for just a moment to have the gift of Shakespeare, so he could properly explain to Molly how deeply he cared for her, and how their reunion had been the best, most special moment of his entire life. He feared he was no word smith, though. His words would end up cliche or trite. So, instead of trying to be anyone other than himself, he decided to keep it simple. He merely told her, "I love you more than you can possibly know, Molly."

She turned her head to look back at him, her hazel eyes sparkling. "I love you too, Chris."

000

_Wyatt took Casey's hands in his, staring into her eyes. "If you're pregnant, I think we should pretend the baby is mine."_

For a minute, all the young woman could do was stare at the young man standing before her. She heard the words, but any and all ability to believe they were actually spoken was gone. For a moment she wondered if he was joking. Another moment she wondered if he was possessed or under the effect of some spell. As he merely kept staring down into her eyes, she finally realized just how dead serious he was being.

Casey dropped his hands. "Have you lost your mind? Did you even hear what you just suggested?"

"It's the only way to fix all this. To give everyone their happy endings. You said yourself, everyone deserves to be happy. I love my kid brother to death, but he won't take this well. You know that. And Molly? There's no way. If we tell the truth, everyone gets hurt. I don't want to see that happen, do you?"

"No, but– "

"– Then, let me do this," Wyatt pleaded. "I'm the older brother. It's my job to clean up Chris' messes, and this time is no different."

"You're calling my potential child a mess?"

"You know what I mean. The situation is a mess. Chris loves Molly. Molly loves Chris. The baby you are probably carrying is going to tear them apart."

"Who says? Molly seems like a really forgiving person. Besides, she was _dead at the time_."

"Doesn't matter. If she finds out you're carrying her boyfriend's child, do you really think it'll end well? Besides, do you really want to trap Chris? If he finds out, he'll want to do right by you. We were raised by the same parents after all."

Casey rolled her eyes. "I can't believe we're even having this conversation. He's your brother for God's sake. You can't seriously be suggesting we keep him from knowing about his own baby. It's not fair to him. Or the baby."

"I'd be a good father. A good partner to you."

"I'm not arguing that. I'm arguing we have zero right to keep the truth a secret. It'd be a total betrayal to him. I mean, come on, Wyatt, you have to know that. He'd never forgive us. _I'd_ never forgive us."

The Twice Blessed finally closed his eyes, lowering his head as he let out a long breath. "God, you're right. You're absolutely right."

Casey moved to his side, wrapping her arms around him. "For the record, I appreciate you willing to step up. You've been unbelievably great about what is potentially a really horrible situation. You could have condemned me for what happened, and tossed me out of your room and life, but instead, you're standing here arguing to be the baby's father. I don't know how you can be so wonderful."

"I'm not," Wyatt admitted. "If Chris wasn't my brother, I'd probably beat the snot out of him. As it is, the really awful situation happened to two people I really care about. I just want everything to be all right."

"Even if you're not."

"What do you mean?"

Casey took his hand again, gently pulling him to the edge of the bed until they were both seated. Looking up into his face, her chest grew tight with guilt. "You can pretend to be okay, Wyatt, but I've known you almost my entire life. When your mouth turns into the tight line– like how it is now– you're either angry or hurt. And your eyes are so easy to read. Clear blue like the sky and everything is great. Dull or glossy means you're sick. Dark like the sky during a storm means you're upset. They're so dark right now a person probably wouldn't be able to tell they were normally cerulean."

The powerful witch turned his gaze to his feet. "It doesn't matter."

Casey's small hand cupped his chin, gently pulling his gaze back to her face. "It matters to me. Get mad. Shout at me. It's okay. I deserve it. I just don't want you holding it all in until you make yourself sick."

"I'm not going to yell at you."

"Then, be honest with me at the very least. Tell me how you really feel about all this."

Wyatt hedged a moment before softly replying, "You did a really stupid thing."

"I agree."

"You shouldn't have gone after him alone. You shouldn't have let him drink so much. Most of all, you should never have slept with him. He's been emotionally damaged, and you shouldn't have let things get so far." After a brief pause, with a voice full of bitterness, "You shouldn't have wanted to be with him in the first place."

The young man got to his feet, pacing back and forth as the floodgate was released. "I hate this. I hate you were with him. My own brother. Now, you're probably pregnant, and instead of it being mine, it's his. His baby is being carried by the woman _I_ love. It would have been easier for him to just take an athame to my back. Less permanent and a hell of a lot less painful. Sometimes, he's just so damn selfish. What Chris needs, when he needs it and to hell with everyone else."

Wyatt paused, clearly surprised by his own words. 

"Feel better?"

"Yes and no." The Twice Blessed ran a hand through his hair. "This sucks. A lot."

"A lot a lot."

Wyatt moved back to the bed, sitting down again. "For the first time in my life, I don't know what to do."

"I know what you can do."

"Oh?"

Casey rested her head on his shoulder, smiling faintly as he automatically put his arm around her. "Give yourself a break. Contrary to popular belief, you aren't responsible for everything that happens to me or Chris. We're two very flawed people, and all you can do is be there for us when we fall. Repeatedly, knowing our learning curve."

Wyatt laughed softly. 

"So, think you can stop playing martyr?"

"I don't know. It might be genetic."

"Just so you know, I wish the baby _were_ yours."

"Because things wouldn't be such a mess."

Casey entwined her fingers with his. "That's part of it. The other part is me just wishing the baby was part of me and part of you. I think it'd make for a really special little boy."

"This one will be too," Wyatt replied, his hand moving to her stomach. He grinned as he imagined how it was going to change over the next few months. How a new life was growing as they spoke. "This little guy is going to be a combination of two people I love. Makes him the most special baby in the world."

The young woman shook her head, narrowing her eyes in mock annoyance. "You people are all going to start touching me now, aren't you?"

"I'm the boyfriend now," the other witch remarked with just a hint of pride, "shouldn't I get perks like that?"

"Depends. Are we really okay, or are you just putting on a brave face to make me feel less horrible?"

Instead of answering, the young man gently brushed his lips against hers. When they parted, he found her blushing, a large smile on her face. "Wasn't too fast, was it?"

She shook her head, her cheeks still rosy. "No...not at all."

"Good."

The young woman grinned, her tone completely flirtatious as she replied, "You have no idea..."

It was the all powerful one's turn to change colors as he ducked his head. Once he'd finally recovered from his slight embarrassment at her praise, he cleared his throat, knowing more serious business needed to be discussed. "So, when are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know. I feel like the longer I wait, the worse it will be."

"No time like the present, then."

"But, Molly just got back. I don't want to ruin their moment."

"Pretty sure that's screwed either way."

"Gee thanks."

"Just saying."

Casey took a deep breath before rising to her feet. With a new strength she turned back to Wyatt with a determined look on her face. "Okay, I should just get this over with, right? Rip off the band-aid to let the wound air." She suddenly deflated. "She's going to hate me."

"Probably."

The young woman shot him a strong glare.

Wyatt raised his hands. "Honesty. Best policy, remember?"

"Did you have to be so blunt about it?"

"I'm the good guy here. Just imagine the kind of things she'll say to you."

"Not helping."

"Not trying," Wyatt retorted. "You made this mess, you'll have to deal with the consequences."

Casey pulled a face. "You're right. Okay. Time to go blow up my best friend's life."

"Good luck."

"Not funny."

"Sorry."

Casey moved out into the hallway, staring at the spot in front of Chris' door like a mine was buried under the carpet, and if she didn't step right, it would go off. Her fear almost kept her stayed outside of Wyatt's room, but she knew the safety of her boyfriend's arms wasn't what she deserved right now. She had to tell Chris. Before she lost the nerve.

Slowly making her way toward her destination, constantly reminding herself to keep moving her feet forward, step by agonizing step, Casey finally reached the outside of Chris' room. She felt the knots multiplying in her stomach to the point she thought she might be ill right then and there.

Closing her eyes and forcing a deep breath, she raised her hand to knock quickly on the door. The moments before the door opened were pure torture. She was bouncing on her feet, tongue thick in her mouth as she tried to just keep breathing.

The door finally opened, Chris poking his head out. His t-shirt had mysteriously disappeared, leaving him only in his sleep pants. "Listen, this isn't..." He frowned as he noticed the way the young woman outside his door was shaking. "What's wrong?"

"I need to talk to you," she found herself answering, her voice quivering despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

The young man's door swung fully open, revealing Molly in Chris' missing t-shirt. The other girl was frowning in concern, also noticing the paleness and fearful nature of her lover's friend. Molly moved to Chris' side, slipping an arm around him. "Hey, are you okay, Casey?"

Casey's eyes went wide as it took her no time to figure out what was going on. The brown orbs flickered from Molly back to Chris. She forced a smile to her face. "This is clearly a bad time."

"It's okay," Molly argued. "You seem really shaky. Do you need to sit down?"

"Sit down?" The other woman repeated. She kept the phony smile on her face as she shook her head. "No. No, I'm fine. Good even. I just. . .I should go. I should go, and you two can get back to. . ." She laughed nervously. "I'm just going to go."

Before the couple could stop her, Casey turned around and hurried away toward Wyatt's room.

"She seemed off before, but that?" Molly started, "that was beyond off. Chris, I think something's really wrong. You should definitely go after her."

Chris, whose eyes had been focused down the hall, turned his gaze back to his girlfriend. "Are you sure? I mean, whatever it is Wyatt can probably handle it."

"Remember the last time you said that?"

"Yeah, well things have changed since then. She and Wy are actually. . .a couple or something."

Molly smirked at the witch. "You couldn't sound more thrilled about it."

"It just happened really fast, and I'm worried. I don't want Wyatt to get hurt again, and I don't want Casey to settle for someone she doesn't really want to be with."

"Maybe, it's for real."

"Maybe," Chris conceded. "Stranger things have happened."

"Well, in any case, you need to find out what she wanted to talk to you about. I don't know her all that well, and even I could see she was a wreck."

Chris nodded, leaning down to kiss her. "I'll be back soon."

"I'll still be here. Promise."

As the young man went down the hall, he could hear his brother's and his friend's voices from within the other room. The closer he got the more easily he was able to hear what they were saying to one another. Just as he reached the door to his big brother's room, he heard something to make him complete freeze mid-step.

"What was I supposed to do, Wyatt? They had obviously just been together for the first time, and I'm supposed to say what? Oh, by the way, Chris, she's not the only one you've screwed lately? P.S. I think you're the one fulfilling your aunt's prophecy. Oh, and, Molly, you're looking great. Hope you don't mind as I blow your relationship to smithereens by having your boyfriend's baby."

The blank spot in Chris' memory suddenly filled with a clear image. Casey was perched on top of the bar in P3. He was kissing her, practically crushing her lips with his own. He saw, horrified, as his hands wrapped around her, taking residence on her lower back in order to slide her to the front of the bar top. The move placed him between her legs, allowing for his hand to slowly traverse its way up her skirt.

The young man shut his eyes, rubbing his palms into them hoping somehow this would finally end the image, and, with any luck, erase it all together.

Nothing could erase the facts though. He'd had sex with Casey last night. 

As the memory mated with the words he'd just heard spoken, Chris felt himself go numb. He barely remembered pushing open the door and pausing in the entrance to his brother's room. He didn't even realize as he stared straight at Casey with an indescribable look etched in his eyes. 

"Chris," she breathed. "Hey. . .why aren't you with Molly?"

"How could you let this happen?" his cold voice accused.

Casey flinched as though physically slapped. Her voice was tiny as she asked, "Excuse me?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about. Last night. P3. I remember. How the _hell_ could you do this?"

Wyatt stepped forward between them. "Chris, calm down. This isn't all her fault."

There would be no calming down. The only feeling left to the younger Halliwell was rage. Pure unbridled anger from every inch of him."Shut up, Wyatt. For once just stay out of it. This is between me and Casey." 

Once his brother had been struck quiet, Chris'dark gaze returned to the already teary young woman. "I trusted you, and you played me."

"I tried to stop it..."

"Obviously not very damn hard," he shot back. "I can't believe you. I knew you were a mess, but to take advantage of your supposed best friend as he's grieving over the woman he _really_ loves...? Pretty damn twisted even for you."

Wyatt stepped forward again, this time his demeanor was purely authoritative. He loomed over the other teen, his gaze steady as he challenged his irate baby brother. "You're no longer welcome here, Chris. Please, leave until you've managed to calm down."

"Calm down? Calm down? How the hell am I supposed to calm down? She took advantage of me on the day of my true love's funeral."

"It takes two to make a mistake like that," Wyatt countered.

The younger Halliwell shook his head. "I can't believe you're taking her side in this. I guess blood doesn't mean much."

"I'm not taking sides, but I'm also not going to stand here and listen to you talk to her like that."

Casey took the Twice Blessed's arm, shaking her head, her tear stained eyes pleading with him to let it go. "It's okay. I deserve it. I'm not worth you two fighting."

"No, you don't deserve an attack, Case, and you're worth it to me."

"Yeah, I guess you would have to defend your girlfriend," the younger teen remarked."Pretty convenient timing, though. Don't you think?"

Wyatt's eyes flashed. "Don't go there, Chris."

"Don't be stupid, Wyatt. She's not who she used to be. Her Dad dies, and she uses it as an excuse to become a manipulative sl-"

For the second time during their brotherhood, Wyatt laid his younger brother out.

Casey had already turned away from the boys, unable to stand seeing the betrayed look in Chris' eyes. She also didn't want to witness the two brothers fighting over someone as unimportant as herself. 

It was through her turning, she was the first to see the new arrival in the room, a tall stranger with blonde hair and blue eyes, who almost looked sympathetic as he grabbed her and shimmered away, leaving her only a chance to give a sharp gasp before they completely disappeared.

tbc. . .


	30. The Darkest Side of Me

AN: I'm a failure as an authoress. I said I'd get this up yesterday, but I fell asleep at my desk :( Sooo, I worked on it this afternoon, and it's ready now, so hopefully, it's not sooo late you all decided to throw things at me. lol.

CHAPTER 30

****

The Darkest Side of Me

With one hand supporting his head, Lucas Halliwell sat slumped over the tiny round table in the kitchen swirling his spoon in his bowl of Cheerios. He watched as the little 'o's went skittering over the calcium enriched lake, crashing against the white wall formed by his bowl.

Molly hurried out of the bathroom, her toothbrush still doing circles over her back teeth. When she saw the youth in his despondent mood, she paused, tilted her head and said something completely incoherent.

Lucas looked up. "What?"

His whitelighter took the brush from her mouth, swallowing the toothpaste before she tried again. "I asked what's the matter? You look like you did the day your father had to tell you Blue died."

Blue had been the boy's first pet– a betta fish– aptly named for his deep cobalt hue. Lucas had gotten the little guy for a present on his nineth birthday. The fish died when a demon threw his father into the mantle the bowl had been resting on. The betta had fallen out onto the carpet and passed away as no one had been able to get Blue back into water fast enough. They'd held a funeral at sea, flushing him after saying a few kind words about what a great fish he'd been.

"I feel off."

The woman was instantly at his side, her hand pressed against his forehead.

Slightly annoyed, he brushed her hand away. "I'm not sick."

"Then, what do you mean by off?"

The witchlighter pushed his bowl away, dropping the spoon in it with a clank. Leaning back in his chair, he looked up at his whitelighter, his green eyes turbulent. "I hate it here. Everything is so different."

"Care to explain?"

"Mom and Dad and you and Wyatt. It's all weird. I mean, I saw your funeral yesterday. Not pleasant. The only time I ever saw Dad cry was when Mom. . ." He couldn't stand the word. He went on, "Sometimes I forget what you went through just to be my whitelighter. What everybody went through just so I could be born. It sucks. I just feel like I was an unwanted complication, messing up all of your lives."

Molly sat next to him at the table, setting her toothbrush down in order to lift his downcast face with a gentle hand. "Look at me. You were not ever unwanted. Unexpected? Sure. But, I swear to you, the moment everyone found out about you, we loved you."

"I caused so many problems for you and Dad. I hadn't really thought about it much till now, but being here when it all went down. . .I see how ugly this really was. You all put such a positive spin on it for my sake, but it wasn't all baby booties and warm fuzzy feelings. Mom and Dad. . .I mean, if what you told me last night was true. . .it had nothing to do with love, Molly. I had nothing to do with love. It was just sad sex."

"Maybe I shouldn't have told you," she softly admitted. "I just wanted you to know you were safe now. I didn't think about how it would seem to you."

"Seem?" the youth repeated. "It seems like my parents made a mistake during a moment of grief and got stuck with me. I'm starting to think the love potion would have been just as romantic."

"Hey. Don't do that. No one was stuck, okay? Lucas, your parents loved each other deeply. They had a connection most people never experience. In some ways, they were soul mates. Your dad wouldn't have done what he did with anyone else. And your mom adored Chris till the end, you know that. You didn't grow up with two people bitter over the hand life dealt them. You grew up with two people who cared about each other very much. Just think of all your dad went through those last few months."

Lucas bit his lower lip, not wanting to think about those last few months. If he could erase them from his memory he would. No child should have to watch as their parent lay slowly dying.

"As for me and your dad. . .it hurt me. I can't lie to you. But, Sweetie, look where we all are now. Don't you think things worked out?"

"Except for mom. . ."

"Who knows, maybe we can change it."

"Magic didn't take her. Magic won't save her," the youth murmured bitterly, having heard the words too many times before.

Molly gave a thin smile as her heart cried for the young man sitting so broken before her. She would have done anything to give him back what he most wanted, but no one had the power to grant him his mother's life returned. She least of all.

The young man's head suddenly snapped up, his eyes narrowing instantly. He cursed under his breath.

"What is it?"

"Mom."

Without leaving time for any questions, Lucky burst into a flurry of blue lights, which zigged and zagged their way upward until disappearing into the air.

The whitelighter closed her eyes, immediately picking up on his location. She opened them a moment later with moan. Snatching up her toothbrush, Molly realized she'd better finish getting ready for the day in a hurry.

Never a dull day as the whitelighter of a Halliwell witch.

000

Two things struck Chris as he lay sprawled backwards on the floor. The first was his brother had punched him in the face. _Again_. Over Casey. _Again_. This time around, Wyatt hadn't held back at all. The younger man's lip was completely split open and the metallic tang of his own blood was on his tongue. Not to mention his jaw killed.

The second detail was Casey's gasp. It was quickly followed by Wyatt crying out her name after turning to find her gone. The Twice Blessed, once realizing he'd been too slow to save her, turned his now completely irate gaze on his sibling.

"Are you happy now?"

Still not entirely cooled off, the other boy, rising to a sitting position, snipped, "Yeah, because I just love the taste of my own blood. You know, if you hadn't been so busy knocking me on my ass, this probably wouldn't have happened."

"Sometimes, I get so sick of you," Wyatt remarked.

"Feeling's mutual."

"She could be in real danger and you don't care. You're too busy being pissed off at the world and making sarcastic comments to give a shit about anyone else's fears or pain. You know what, Chris? Get off it." The Twice Blessed, clearly shaken, finished with a low, shaky tone. "If Zayel kills her, I swear to God, we will not be all right."

The name of the demon snapped Chris from his blind anger. His face went slack and pale. "You think it was Zayel? He killed her dad. If he has her. . ."

Wyatt's face softened. "I know."

The younger brother rested his elbows on his knees as he dropped his head into his hands. "I'm such an asshole."

Letting out a breath to release the last of his own anger, the Twice Blessed squatted down in front of Chris, putting a hand on the other boy's shoulder. "You're not an asshole, Chris."

Pale green eyes reached up to the blue. "The things I said to her. . .what the hell is wrong with me?"

"You freaked. I throw up; you get pissed. Everyone deals in their own way."

"She's my best friend, and I turned on her. There's no excuse for what I said to her. She didn't deserve that."

"No, she didn't."

Chris turned his eyes away, staring off at the carpet. "She's really pregnant?"

"Yeah," Wyatt responded, his voice thick. His blue eyes decided to look anywhere but at his little brother. "Fits with what we know. Phoebe's premonition...Molly's return..."

"Molly." The young man squeezed his eyes shut. "It's going to kill her."

The older brother nodded. "Yeah."

Chris returned his gaze to his brother and saw through the brave front the other teenager was so good at putting on. He was one of the few who could see through his sibling's act, mostly because it was a skill they had both acquired over the years. A pretender can always see through another pretender's illusions. Underneath all the calm, rational strength lay a young man whose heart was ripping like paper through a shredder. Wyatt had wanted the baby. Now Chris was getting it.

"I'm sorry."

"Be sorry later," Wyatt stiffly replied. "Right now, I need you to pull it together and help me find her."

Helping his little brother off the floor, the Twice Blessed was about to orb up to the attic to take a look at the Book of Shadows when Molly appeared out in the hallway looking worried. Her eyes immediately jumped to Chris' split and bleeding lip, and she was at his side in an instant.

"Did a demon do this?"

"Not exactly," Chris replied. "Listen, Molly, Casey has been taken, and Wy and I need to find her. Until it's safe maybe you should get out of here."

Molly put her hands on her hips. "No way. I'm not defenseless anymore. I can help. I didn't get a chance to tell you, but I'm Casey's new whitelighter and will be her baby's too."

"The baby?"

"Well, when she has one."

"Has one...right."

Wyatt took pity on his younger brother and interrupted the conversation before it started to get ugly. "Okay, we're going up to the attic to look through the book. Meet us there."

The older brother went up in a shower of white and blue lights.

Molly turned Chris, "Race you."

Before he could even respond, she was gone in a sparkle of deep blue orbs. He would have normally smiled at her exuberance, but nothing could get the cold ache to leave his chest. He was terrified on a wholly new level, and no matter how much he loved Molly, nothing she could do would alleviate his fear or his abounding guilt. In fact, her mere presence made the latter worse.

Taking a moment to clear his head and regain a semblance of control over himself, Chris finally orbed up to the attic. He was greeted by the bottom of Wyatt's blond head as the older boy bent over their family's sacred tome, and by Molly's confused frown.

"What took you so long?"

Chris was saved from answering as a set of orb lights swarmed into their attic until a young man appeared from amongst the bright swirls of light. His chestnut colored hair hung edgily into his jade eyes, which were narrowed at the man standing behind the pedestal. His black t-shirt and matching jeans only made him appear all the more threatening as the scowl remained firmly in place on his face.

Wyatt, reacting on instinct, flung out a hand, attempting to blow up the intruder.

The young man was having none of it. He raised a hand, a reflective shield forming. The blast hit the glowing blue area and bounced back at the Twice Blessed who was forced to orb out to avoid taking the hit. When he reappeared, it was in time to see the window shatter.

Chris started to raise a hand.

The youth turned to look at him. "I wouldn't do that."

"Oh, yeah? Why's that?"

"Because if you attack me, I have to defend myself, and it might cause me to accidentally hurt you or Molly, and I don't want that."

The whitelighter in the room found herself staring at the stranger. Something about him seemed so. . .familiar. She softly questioned, "How do you know my name?"

A grin played on the intruder's lips. "I know you. Just not yet."

"I don't understand."

"I'm just here to get a spell from the book."

Wyatt moved to stand over the Book of Shadows. His face was all business as he regarded the strange witchlighter suddenly in their attic. "What makes you think you can just come into our home and use our book? Who are you? And how is it you have both whitelighter and witch abilities?"

"I don't have to answer that."

"That's where you're wrong. You want to see this book; you answer the question. Now, who are you?"

The youth smirked, and with a great bow and mocking tone, replied, "Sir Galahad, at your service, _Your Highness_."

The Twice Blessed shot a look to his brother. "Familiar to you?"

"Yeah, actually it is." Chris frowned as he tried to remember the details surrounding the name. When it finally started coming to him, he found himself more confused than before regarding the identity of the mysterious youth. "The Knight of the Round Table who managed to get the Holy Grail. He even sat in the Siege Perilous."

"The what?"

"It was a special seat at the Round Table. Only the greatest knight in the world could sit there."

The future King turned a doubtful gaze at the proclaimed Sir Galahad. "You're the greatest Knight of the Round Table? Wouldn't that make us allies?" When the kid didn't answer, Wyatt turned to his brother again, "Wasn't Lancelot the greatest of all Knights?"

Chris barely heard the question as the pieces of the puzzle started slipping into place. He'd studied the Knights of the Round Table when he was twelve and first heard the prophesy about his brother being King Arthur. He'd wanted to know everything he could about what it would mean for his sibling. Now that his memory of the information had been triggered, he understood what the name Sir Galahad really implied. With a murmur he answered, "Galahad was Lancelot's son."

Lucky, for this is who Galahad truly was, smiled softly as he saw the realization hit his father. "Yeah. He was."

"Okay, glad for the medieval history lesson, but I don't have time for this," Wyatt interrupted. "Someone I love needs me, and to save her I need this book, so I'm sorry, but whatever you came for, you're going to have to leave without it."

"That's where _you're_ wrong," Lucas argued. "I trusted you to watch out for her, and you let her get taken right out from under your nose. So, now? I save her."

"How do you even know Casey?"

Chris' eyes dropped to the floor. Molly noticed but couldn't have possibly understood the implication.

"Who do you think saved her from the Vetala that day? Hmm? Or told her how to vanquish him?"

"You?"

"Me. Now, I have to be going." Lucky turned his attention back to the Book of Shadows, lifted a hand and silently summoned it to him in a flurry of lights. As it appeared in his hands, his attention was pulled toward a new set of orb lights just appearing in the attic. As the shape took form, he let out a frustrated breath. "Molly."

His whitelighter noticed the book in his hands. With hands on hips, she gave him a disapproving look. "What do you think you are doing?"

The Molly by Chris' side turned to him. "I'm not imagining this, right? She's me?"

"I would say so."

"Molly," Lucky addressed his guide, "Someone has to save her, and it sure isn't going to be him."

"Why not?"

The Twice Blessed added, "Yeah, why not?"

"I'm not leaving her fate in his hands again."

The newly arrived Molly's face softened, her hazel eyes glowing gently as she gazed sympathetically on her charge. "It wasn't his fault, Lucas. He loves her. He would have moved heaven and earth to save her. You need to let it go, and stop blaming him."

"No, I really don't. He let my mother die when he had the power to save her, so as far as I'm concerned, he as good as killed her, and I'm not going to let it go. I'm sure as hell not going to sit idly by while he drops the ball this time either."

As Lucas disappeared, book in hands, in a buzzing swarm of orbs, Wyatt's eyes went wide with the implications of the youth's words. His blue sought out Chris' green only to find his brother staring numbly at the wall across from him. Not able to get his sibling's attention, he moved his focus to the Molly from the future. "I let Casey die?"

"It's complicated. Just know it was not your fault. Her death was not supernatural. It was out of your hands."

The whitelighter's younger counterpart looked between her futureself and her boyfriend, a sickening realization coming together as the fact the young stranger was Casey's son echoed in her head. Her hazel gaze locked on Chris' guilty face. Suddenly his strange behavior moments earlier made sense. The familiarity of the youth was instantly explained. As tears already began to form in her eyes, she shakily asked, "You slept with Casey?"

Chris managed to slide his eyes to her face. A stricken look filled his every feature when he saw the betrayed one in her hazel eyes. "Molly, it's not how you think. . ."

"I was gone a _week_. One week. You couldn't even keep it in your pants that long? How could you? You spout all this garbage about how much you missed me and love me and the whole time you had been having sex with another woman."

Wyatt turned his eyes away from the two. He felt uncomfortable witnessing what was sure to be the demise of his little brother's relationship. The last thing he wanted was for his brother to experience losing her again. He didn't want Molly to have to feel any of the heart ache and betrayal either.

Future Molly watched the scene play out with an odd sense of deja vu. This time around, she kept her eyes on Chris, noticing the nuisance in his voice, the way it was almost breaking but his pride wouldn't quite let it. She saw how pale his face was and the way his Adam's apple was quivering in his throat as he tried to hold his emotions at bay.

"I do love you," Chris argued. "It happened after your funeral. Everything just got– "

"– Stop it," the younger woman barked. "Just stop. I don't want to hear this. I really really don't. It doesn't matter. You knew I wasn't dead, but you couldn't wait for me. If you really loved me, you would have. Instead, you slept with Casey, and now, she's," her voice hitched, "pregnant. She's having your baby. Prue warned me things would be different, and boy, was she ever right. It turns out my so-called true love is really nothing more than a cheating jerk."

Wyatt couldn't take it anymore. He moved from the pedestal toward the upset whitelighter. "I'm not defending Chris' actions. He and Case made a huge mistake, but, Molly, I was able to forgive Casey. Maybe, once you calm down you'll see things differently. I mean, the funeral really broke him. They went to P3 and got drunk. It was a stupid way to deal with the situation, and things just got out of hand."

"So, it was drunken sex. It doesn't change anything. It's not an excuse."

"What do you want me to do, Molly?" Chris quietly asked, his eyes not quite meeting hers. "I can't change what happened. I would if I could. I made a really horrible, awful mistake, but I'm not a cheater. I wouldn't do that to you."

"You did."

"You _died_. Okay? Do you have any clue what it was like sitting in the pew staring at your body while everyone cried and said goodbye to you? At the cemetery I literally saw the hole they were planning on sticking you in. All I could think about was how you were going down in the earth. You were really dead. I knew you were a whitelighter. I did. But, I also knew you were dead and gone. I had no idea when I would see you again. A week, a month, a year, a decade. Maybe more. Something in me snapped. I just wanted to drink myself into oblivion."

Molly, a tear trailing its way down her cheek, shook her head. "Instead you screwed your best friend." She wiped away the tear before hugging herself tightly. "Maybe, it's a sign. You loved her before, and you slept with her now, and she's having your baby. So, why don't you just go be with her."

"Molly, no. The only one I want to be with is you. It was a mistake."

"I can't even look at you right now without picturing you with her. It makes me want to puke."

"Molly– "

He was cut off as she erupted into a shower of lights, disappearing with a flourish of blue. His instinct was to go after her, but a small hand on his arm stopped him from doing so. He turned to find his girlfriend's counterpart smiling softly at him.

"You have other things to think about right now," she said. "Find Casey. She needs you more right now."

"What about Molly? You? I can't just sit here while her heart breaks."

The whitelighter smiled wisely. "I know her pretty well, being her and all. She'll be okay. She's gone to Prue and Andy. She and your aunt will have a nice heart to heart, and she'll start to see things with her head instead of her heart. Besides, I plan on having a talk to. . .well, myself, I guess. I didn't find out this way before. You broke it to me gently. Since your future son changed it, I figure it's only fair I help you get things back on track."

"How? How can she possibly forgive me for this?"

Molly laughed softly. "Chris, I'm her. Believe me when I say, she does. You two can count on a long happy life together. It will just take some time and patience and a little rebuilding. Not to mention, you might want to watch out for Casey as I tend to take things out on her for a while."

"You and me. . .we're together in the future?"

His future lover broke out into a large smile. "Well, I would hope so. Lucas would be pretty upset if he accidentally erased his baby sister."

"Baby sister?"

"Not for a long time, but yeah."

Chris allowed himself a small smile. "Thanks. For giving me hope."

"It's my job. Now, if I were you, I wouldn't concern yourself with the demon. By now, your son has already taken care of him. I'd use a blood to blood spell and summon them both back here. Once you've done that, give me a shout, and I'll come try to talk some sense into him. Until then, I'll go deal with past me."

As she left to try to repair the damage done by her charge, Molly saw Wyatt already flipping through the book to find the appropriate spell. Things would work out one way or another. One didn't become the whitelighter of a Halliwell without great crises management skills.

000

Casey struggled in her captor's grasp as they reappeared in some dank cave in the underworld. However, she wasn't anywhere near as strong as the young man holding her, and so, remained his prisoner as he managed to chain her to the wall. Once the cuffs were on, she noticed him softly staring at her. She narrowed her brown eyes, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't she went back to fighting, jerking at the chains.

"Don't. They're magic. If you struggle they get tighter, and I don't want you getting hurt."

The young woman paused, shooting him a dark look. "I somehow don't believe you what with you kidnapping me and all."

"I didn't have a choice. Zayel would have suspected me if I hadn't gone through with it. He's already starting to wonder. I don't want to be that monster anymore, and if he finds out I've been freed from him, he'll turn me back. I know he will."

"Wait, you mean to tell me you were under his control? How?"

Marshal fidgeted in his new corpse, uncomfortable in the stranger's skin. He felt vile for needing it. "He killed my family, and then when he killed me he hid my body, making sure I didn't get the funeral rites the rest of my family did. He essentially kept me from moving on and joining them in Heaven. Normally, that alone would be enough to turn a spirit into a poltergeist, but he took it a step further and used his powers to twist my mind until I was hardly human anymore. I became something else. . .something evil."

Casey felt the cold hatred for the Vetala slowly melting. "I'm sorry for you loss. And for what he did to you. But, why are you still working for him? If you came to the Halliwells, told them what you know, they'd protect you and help you be free of him for good."

"Firstly, Zayel is very powerful. I'm not sure the Halliwells are ready to handle him yet. More importantly, after everything I've done to them, the Halliwell family would vanquish me on sight. So, I'm doing what I can to stop him from within."

"What about me? What happens when he comes back?"

Marshal put his hands in his pockets, looking at his shoes. "I don't know. I'm hoping you get saved before he returns from his meeting."

"Meeting?"

"He's meeting with some of the leaders of the underworld, warning them about what he saw in the future when he went there. If he can convince them your baby is a real threat, you'll be in more danger than ever before."

"Why is this child such a threat? I don't understand. Phoebe Halliwell said something about him being responsible for destroying all the demons, but isn't that supposed to be Wyatt's job?"

The Vetala shrugged. "I really don't know much about it. Just that Wyatt can't do it all on his own. He needed a powerful ally. Someone to help fulfill his plans for a utopia like future where demons are on the run instead of on the attack."

"Listen, ah . . ."

"Marshal."

"Marshal. If you take me back to the manor, I will promise you nothing will happen to you. I'll vouch for you. I swear. You can avenge your family's deaths and help make amends."

Her captor considered her words, hesitating in his decision. He finally let the corner of his mouth curl upwards, relief washing over him. "Okay. If you really think they'll listen to me, I'll take you back."

"Thank you, Marshal. You won't regret this."

Orb lights swirled around the cave, casting illumination over the two already present. As the light dimmed, a young man formed, not waiting before issuing his first attack on the Vetala. With the flick of one hand he sent the demon catapulting backwards into the far wall. As the demon lay groggy on the floor, the teenager squeezed shut his hand watching as the minion's blue eyes went wide, his hands grasping at his throat in panic.

"Stop it. Please," Casey begged.

Her would be rescuer turned a confused look on her. "He kidnapped you."

"He didn't have a choice. Please, just leave him alone. He's not evil. He wouldn't hurt me."

"Yeah, well, I'm not betting on that."

As Marshal finally managed to get to his feet, Lucas twisted his wrist, gesturing with his pointer and middle fingers, telekinetically pinning the other teen to the wall. With another twist of his wrist, his fingers gestured toward the other wall, running the other youth head first into it, knocking him immediately unconscious.

Once the minion was out of the way, he turned to his mother, forcing a mask over his face. She was glaring at him. He pretended it didn't break his heart. "He couldn't be trusted. Besides, if I let him just go free, Zayel would have realized he let you go, and he would be dead instead of unconscious."

Lucky lazily gestured with his hand, snapping the chains from the wall, freeing the young woman from her bonds. He then took her arm and orbed them back to the apartment he and Molly were staying in. Once they had rematerialized, he released his grip on her.

She pulled roughly away, turning on him. "Just who the hell are you? First, you follow me. Then, you save me and disappear without even telling me your name. Now, you hurt an innocent guy after I told you he wasn't a threat."

"I told you why I did that. It was a win-win move. He's not a threat to our escape, and even if he is trustworthy, it leaves him an excuse with Zayel."

"You still haven't told me who you are, or why I shouldn't think you're the real threat to me."

The young man's face softened. "I would never hurt you."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you."

"Then I can't trust you."

The young witchlighter folded his arms over his chest, his gaze on the carpet. "I guess I'll have to live with that."

"I want to go home."

"You're not safe there."

"I'd have to disagree."

"I could scream and have the Twice Blessed here in an instant."

Her new captor laughed sardonically. "Of course. The all mighty Wyatt Halliwell is your knight in shining armor."

"He is."

"He shouldn't be."

Casey's curiosity peaked. Her brows furrowed as she folded her arms over her chest. "Really? And why's that?"

"Maybe, because he let's you die," Lucas suddenly exclaimed, surprising even himself with the vehemence in his voice. He immediately regretted saying the words as he saw the shocked and slightly hurt look cross his mother's face. He lowered his gaze, shoving his hands in his pockets. "I'm sorry."

The other witch pushed the harsh reality of her apparently untimely death from her mind, focusing on the other implication his words provided. "You're from the future. It's the only way you'd know when I die."

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled.

Casey let out a huff of air. "Sure it does. . .Lucky."

The young man's jade eyes jumped up to her soft brown. "How did you. . .?"

"Know? Phoebe had a premonition where I had a baby boy named Lucky. Who else in the future would risk his life twice to save me? Besides, you look like your dad."

Lucky smiled softly, still keeping his eyes to the floor, his bangs falling into them. "People say that a lot."

"Wow, this is just so. . .wow. Most people wonder what their kids are going to look like, but now, I guess I know. Pregnant one day, and I meet my son. Perks of being a witch I guess." She looked him up and down, her heart already swelling with pride over the young man currently starting to grow inside of her. "You look so handsome, and you're already brave and strong. Guess, I do a pretty good job at this whole mom thing, huh?"

"You're the best."

"Not that I'm complaining, but why exactly are you in the past?"

Lucky's eyes grew dark, his jaw setting. "Molly thinks it's to stop Zayel from hurting us. Honestly, though? I have my own agenda. I need to warn you about Wyatt."

tbc. . .


	31. Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Thanks so much again to everyone reading. I'm sorry to have to do it, but I need to be out of town again this weekend for personal reasons, but I'll (hopefully) get the next part up Monday. Until then, may this be long enough to sustain you :)

CHAPTER 30

**Boulevard of Broken Dreams**

Prue Halliwell hadn't had the chance to have children during her life. For a long time, she hadn't thought she wanted any. Her reservations had been brought on from a lot of different issues. The most important was probably her unresolved abandonment issues, which sprung from her mother's early death. She always feared she was too much like her mother and would inevitably wind up with the same fate, which coincidentally, she had more or less. In any case, she refused to leave any child of hers as broken as her mother had left she and her sisters after losing their mom. Then again, she had practically raised her sisters from that point on. It was surprising she hadn't killed Phoebe some where along the way considering how irresponsible and selfish her youngest sister had been during her youth. All in all, Prue had never been sure she'd really make for a good mother. She was bossy, controlling, temperamental, and impatient. None of those traits a good mother makes.

However, living all these years in a quiet life with the man she had loved since childhood, Prue had started to wonder if maybe she'd been wrong. Andy had always wanted a house full of rambunctious children. Maybe, just maybe, they would have been really great parents.

Except for the complications between the two of them. Again, unresolved issues even after all these years. Andy's refusal to see past her wiccan heritage the first time he'd discovered the truth, along with his adamant resolve regarding not being involved with a witch for want of some semblance of safety and normalcy if not for himself then for his future children had broken her heart. While the circumstances had clearly changed and her boyfriend– for lack of a better term– had changed his mind about just about everything regarding magic, she couldn't get past his initial reaction to her when he'd discovered she was a witch.

Nor could she entirely forgive herself for indirectly causing his early death. After all, he'd died saving she and her sisters from the demon, Rodriguez.

So, due to all of these unresolved issues, Prue had no children. She and Andy weren't even married after almost two decades of being (for all intents and purposes) together. Her life, while perfectly acceptable most of the time, wasn't really fulfilling.

Until she met Molly.

Something about the new whitelighter struck a chord inside of Prue Halliwell's often cut off heart. The young woman was so innocent and naive about the ways of the world, yet clearly she was an intelligent, capable individual. In some ways, it was rather a contradiction. She seemed to be full of them. At times, confident of herself and her place in the world, and at other moments, incredibly insecure. She trusted some people to a fault, while over all, seemed to have a hard time letting people in. She gave her life for a stranger, but didn't seem capable of seeing herself as a hero.

In a lot of ways, the girl reminded Prue of Piper when her sister was younger. Perhaps that was why she was so quickly starting to care for her.

So, while she was finishing developing her latest roll of film only to hear the sounds of sobbing coming from upstairs, the former Charmed One immediately found herself orbing to her charge to see what she could do to ease what was surely tremendous heart-ache.

The young woman was sprawled over her bed, her pillow clutched to her face as her tears began to soak it. She only paused in her gasping and crying in order to look up with hurt filled hazel eyes at her whitelighter. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Prue pursed her lips as she cautiously made her way to the girl's bed, gently setting herself down next to her. "Would it really have made it any easier for you?"

The eyes turned away.

"Molly, I'm sorry you had to go through this. I know how much it must hurt."

"Hurt?" Molly swallowed the lump in her throat, shaking her head. "I feel like my heart is being squeezed so hard I can't breathe. How could he do this? How could he claim to love me and then turn around and," she choked on a half-sob, "have _sex_ with her?"

"It was how things were supposed to end up, Molly. I warned you things would be different. . ."

"Different is a new haircut, not having my boyfriend knock up another girl."

"People are flawed. Sometimes we do stupid things."

"You have to defend him. He's your nephew."

The former Charmed One rolled her eyes. "Right. Because I've been granted so much time to get to know him. All I get are rare glimpses. To be honest, I know you far better than I know Chris at this point."

"We've known each other for a week."

"I met with him for an hour."

Molly sat up, hugging her pillow. She sniffled, wiping at her eyes, sick of crying. "I hate him."

"If you hated him, it wouldn't hurt so much."

"We. . .when I got there, he and I . . ."

Prue's eyebrows went up. "Oh. Oh boy."

"Yeah. I can't believe I was so stupid. I should have known better. Guys like Chris don't wait for girls like me."

The older woman immediately lifted the other's face with her hand. The blue eyed whitelighter stared into the hazel set of eyes, a firmness in her gaze. "Listen to me, Molly, don't you ever _ever_ let a man make you feel bad about yourself. In fact, you don't let _any_one make you feel like you aren't worth it. You are. Plus some. You are absolutely gorgeous with those soft hazel eyes and beautiful raven hair. Best of all, you're a good person. You gave your life to save someone else's, and that makes you braver and more loving than most people could ever be capable of becoming."

On instinct, Prue pulled the teary eyed girl into an embrace, rubbing circles on her back. After her charge seemed a bit calmer, she pulled back to look into Molly's face. A piece of hair was stuck to the younger woman's wet cheek, so the ex-witch removed it, placing it back behind her charge's ear. "You aren't stupid, Molly. You love him. Very much. And I know it doesn't seem like it, but I know he loves you too. I saw it."

Molly didn't respond, her eyes staring at her bedroom carpet. "Can I be alone for a bit?"

"Sure. Just call if you need anything."

Prue rose from her place on the bed, giving her charge a sympathetic smile before finally exiting the room. As she pulled shut the door behind her, she jumped slightly as Andy appeared next to her.

"I take it she found out the whole truth?"

The woman nodded affirmation.

"Think she'll be okay?"

Prue glanced back at the door with a softness in her blue eyes. "She's a strong kid. It'll take time, but she'll sort things out and be back on her feet soon."

"I'm not sure," Andy hedged. "She fell pretty hard for that nephew of yours, and he betrayed her. It's not something a person is likely to get over very easily."

"He didn't betray her."

"He slept with another woman."

"Well, technically, Molly is dead. They were separated."

Andy rolled his eyes. "Sure, that might fly if he _hadn't_ known she was a whitelighter. But, come on, Prue, you and I know he did. The kid just couldn't wait for her."

"Chris is not like that."

"Oh? How would you know, Prue?"

"He's Piper's son. That's how I know."

Her lover's face softened slightly. Deciding to change the subject, he asked, "So, speaking of your sisters, how are you dealing with the idea of seeing them again? Meeting Paige?"

"I think I want some tea," Prue replied, heading down the stairs.

With a frustrated breath, the former detective followed after her. Most people wouldn't bother going up against the human wall known as Prue Halliwell. For Andy it was just another day. "You have to face them eventually, Prue. We're still responsible for Molly, and soon your nephews too. Besides, they are your sisters. I know how much you've missed Piper and Phoebe. How much you've wanted to see them."

The woman put on the kettle, ignoring him.

"I know you're scared– "

The Halliwell woman finally turned around, her gaze biting. "I am not scared, Andy."

He gave her a look.

"I'm not," she repeated, more hotly.

"Prue, it's okay. It's been almost twenty years since you've seen them, and a lot has changed. Not least of all the addition of Paige. It's okay to be nervous, but you aren't alone."

Turning at his words, Prue found herself finally surrendering to what he was saying. Her gaze was almost childlike in its pure trepidation. "What if they don't need me anymore? What if we get there, and I just don't belong after all this time? So much has changed. They've all grown up and gotten families of their own."

Andy took her hand, using his free one to stroke her jaw lightly. With a warm, reassuring smile he promised, "They are your sisters, Prue, and they are going to be just as happy to see you as you will be to see them."

Prue moved to rest her head on his chest, and as she stood in his arms, she knew he was right.

It was time to go home.

000

Molly stared at the wall, trying to process everything she had discovered and everything Prue had said to her. In the end, she was no closer to finding answers or resolution than when she had first gotten back home. She just felt numb, as though it were someone else's life, and at any moment everything would go back to how it was before.

It never did.

However, the young woman was drawn from her study of the wallpaper as a familiar jingle sounded and lights buzzed through the air. For a moment she feared it was Chris or Wyatt come to plead her boyfriend's case. In the end, it ended up being someone she hadn't ever expected: herself.

"Hey," the older version greeted softly. She pulled a tissue from her pant's pocket and held it out to her other self. "I remember this moment. Figured you could use this. I think I used all the ones in my box."

The younger counterpart mechanically took the offered Kleenex, but made no move to wipe her eyes or otherwise use the gift. She could only stare at her future version, barely noticing any differences between the other her and the image she found in mirrors. Save a few small details– wrinkles around the eyes and a general sagely look in the hazel gaze, which only time would put in them.

"You're wondering why I'm here," the older woman started, taking a seat next to herself on the bed. "Believe it or not, I'm here for Chris."

"What?" Molly shook her head, almost flabbergasted. "Why?"

"Easy. I love him. Since I love him; you love him."

"Actually right now, I'd be happy never to see him again."

The future counterpart leaned back on the bed, resting on the palms of her hands. "You can fool other people, but it's pretty hard to lie to yourself. Literally. I did sit where you are sitting right now. I may have been extremely hurt and angry, but never did I not want to see Chris ever again. In fact, part of me wanted nothing more than to be in his arms again."

"It doesn't matter," the other murmured.

"Sure it does," the older countered. "Love does not just go away because someone breaks our heart. It retreats like a dog whacked on the nose with a newspaper. Meaning, with a little time and gentle care, it will get back to where it was before."

The red-eyed version frowned, struggling to understand what she was hearing. "You and Chris are. . .together? In the future?"

"Yes. And quite happy."

"How? How could that be? After what he did. . .?"

"You're too upset to see it now, but really, it's his love for you that put all of you in this mess in the first place. I was actually at our funeral yesterday, and he really was completely broken, crying in the pew even. So, feeling broken hearted and hopeless, he dealt with it in an unhealthy way. But, it had very little to do with Casey. It had to do with you, and the pain losing you caused him."

"You said very little, meaning some."

Her future self let out a breath. "They love one another. They always will. At times their connection is hard not to be jealous of. If it had been anyone else in the bar yesterday, nothing would have happened, but because they are so close and do care about one another so much, Chris did use her for a moments relief from the pain. It was a stupid move to make, but it happened, and now, you have to deal with it."

"I don't think I can."

"I'm you. I did it, which means you will do it."

Molly took a deep breath, pursing her lips as she thought carefully about her next question. After a moment, she ventured, "Is it worth it?"

"Fighting for Chris?"

A nod.

"Worth it a thousand times over."

"What about the baby? He's having a child with Casey. How am I supposed to compete with that?"

The older Molly lowered her gaze, any sign of a smile slipping from her face. "Don't compete with her. She's the baby's mother. She deserves your help, not your hate. I know it will be hard, but just please, try to be nice to her. She won't get in the way of you and Chris. She'll just want to be a good mother to their son while she can."

"Lucas said something about her dying. It's really bad, isn't it?"

Her counterpart changed the subject as she rose from the bed. "One last thing before I go. Remember this: Sometimes a person's greatest joy can come from one of their deepest pains."

000

Casey found herself staring at her future child with a dumbstruck look. Of all the words to come out of the boy's mouth, those chosen were the ones she would have least expected to hear. For as long as she could remember, Wyatt had always looked out for her. He'd healed a scraped knee after she fell learning to ride a bike. He'd saved her countless times during demon attacks. The Twice Blessed had even protected her from herself a number of times. So, how was it the young man who had always been her protector was now the one she needed to be warned about?

"I don't have long to explain," Lucas was saying. "But, in the future, something happens to you. Something really bad. After a lot of researching, Dad found a way to save you, but he didn't have the power to do it. Only Wyatt did. In the end, the all powerful one refused to help. Instead, he made us all watch as you died a really slow and painful death."

"Wyatt?"

"Yes."

"Wyatt Halliwell?"

"Yeah."

"Wyatt Matthew Halliwell?"

Frustrated, "Yes, okay? The one you think you're falling for is actually the one to let you die in the future while Dad is the only brother who actually loves you. He would have done anything for you, but King Arthur couldn't be bothered."

"That doesn't make any sense. Why would he just let me die?"

"I don't know. Maybe, he was jealous of you and Dad. If he couldn't have you all to himself, no one would have you at all."

Casey leaned back against a counter, staring hard at the linoleum floor. "He wouldn't do that. He's not like that."

"Maybe not yet, but he changes when he finds out you guys can't. . ." He stopped himself from saying more, immediately shifting his eyes from her.

"We can't what, Lucky?"

"It doesn't matter."

"Clearly it does."

The soft green eyes finally met her face. Reluctant to reveal even more about the future, the young man still couldn't seem to stop himself from telling his mom anything she wanted to know. Anything just to keep hearing her voice. "Wyatt can't have kids. He's sterile."

His soon to be mother's hand flew to her mouth, her eyes growing glossy at the harsh information. Her other hand clutched tightly to the edge of the counter to keep upright as her mind's processes seemed to take up the entirety of her body's capabilities just then. She couldn't stop thinking of how much Wyatt had wanted the baby to be his, and how now, he'd never get any child of his own. Her chest closed in on her lungs, making it impossible to breathe as her heart broke for her boyfriend.

"Mom, please say something."

Her rich brown eyes shot up to her child's green. "He resents you?"

"You could say that."

She shook her head. Nothing would let her believe Wyatt capable of the accusations, but hearing them from her own son was definitely making doubt rear its head. "I can't believe this. . ."

The young man opened his mouth to say more but was cut off as golden lights started swirling around both he and his mother. As their worlds collapsed into whiteness for a moment, they felt themselves pulled upward like scaling a roller-coaster until finally the ride ended, and both mother and son found themselves standing in the attic of the Manor.

Wyatt's arms were immediately wrapped around Casey, holding her tightly against him, but the young woman couldn't help but keep something back as she returned the embrace, her eyes seeking out those of her son, which were only filled with contempt for the man in whose arms she found herself.

Future Molly was already back, and wasted no time going to her charge's side. She frowned at the dark look marking his face and knew instantly he'd done something. Her gaze sought out Casey's, and it became clear just what her darling stepson had done. "You didn't. . ."

He turned his face away.

"Are you okay?" Wyatt was asking, checking over his girlfriend for any injuries. "Did he hurt you?"

She brushed him off with a small smile. "I'm fine. Stop fussing. Actually, I think I may have just found us an ally in the fight against Zayel."

"Him?" the blond youth asked, gesturing to Lucas.

"No, no. Marshal."

"Who?"

"It's a long story."

Molly moved over to the Book of Shadows, flipping through it.

"What are you doing?" her charge questioned.

"Looking for the spell to get home."

"Home? Why? Our mission isn't over."

His whitelighter glanced up, her hazel eyes thunderous. "Actually, I think we've done more than enough."

The youngest boy shrunk under her glare.

Molly continued her search. "Besides, we did what we came to do. We stopped Zayel from erasing your existence. The rest is up to them. Just like before. Ah, here it is. Okay, then, time to say goodbye, Lucas."

Lucky moved to his mother, wrapping her up in his arms, burying his face in her hair. Whispering into her ear, "I love you so much, Mom. Just please, remember what I said."

She pulled back, nodding subtly. With a tender smile she returned, "I'm glad you came, and I love you already."

Lucas walked past an open-armed Wyatt to get to his father, who hadn't said a word or even looked up since their arrival into the attic. The son put his hands into his pockets while he offered a shy, "Hey."

Chris looked up, immediately overwhelmed by all the boy's features, and how while he truly took after his father, bits of his mother still shined through. Finally, allowing himself to see the possible joy the situation offered, the boy's soon to be father let himself smile, a little pride even coming through. "Hey back."

"I'm sorry to cause so much trouble. . ."

"Kids are supposed to do that, right?" the older brunet replied. "I figure I should get used to it."

Lucas chuckled. "Yeah, I guess so."

"So. . .do we hug?"

The son wasted no time giving the young version of his father a tight embrace. "I'll see you in about sixteen years, Dad."

Pulling away, Chris ran a hand through his hair. "Dad. Wow, I'm so not ready for that."

Lucky laughed good naturedly. "It's okay. Must be hard to wrap your head around. Especially since I'm only like a year younger than you are right now. It's weird to see you like this, and I knew it was coming."

It was Molly's turn to embrace Chris. She murmured into his ear, "Everything is going to be just fine. I'm sure of it."

"From your lips."

The older version of his girlfriend laid a soft kiss on his lips. As it ended, she remarked, "Just something to tide you over till the storm ends."

Chris, cheeks bright red, could only smile shyly.

Next, the whitelighter moved to Wyatt, who had grown sullen after the rejection by his future nephew. She pulled him down into a hug, taking the opportunity to give him some helpful advice about the future. "You're a good man, Wyatt, but sometimes, rules are made to be broken."

He frowned down at her, not understanding.

"You'll get it someday."

Leaving the Twice Blessed to ponder her words, Molly finally turned to her former rival. She didn't hesitate to pull Casey into an embrace, much to the girl's surprise. Into her ear, the whitelighter spoke the most important words of all. "Lucky's still a boy. He doesn't see everything objectively. Don't take everything he might have told you as the final word."

Casey didn't nod or give any verbal acknowledgment of the words, but her eyes conveyed to Molly her understanding of the delicate situation.

Lucas held out his hand to his guide as she returned to the Book of Shadows. After he had her hand he slowly began to recite: _A time for everything and everything to its place. Return what has been moved through time and space._

As the two went up in a swirl of gold and white lights, those remaining in the attic watched in slight awe. It had taken the Power of Three to use the spell in the past. It seemed young Lucas was far more than met the eye, and his impact in their lives was the reason why every occupant of the attic was staring at either the floor or one of the walls, lost in thought, as soon as he and Molly were completely gone.

The future had just become a whole lot less abstract.

tbc. . .


	32. Don't Speak

I didn't get a chance to respond to everyone's reviews personally before I left, so THANKS EVERYBODY!!

CHAPTER 31

**Don't Speak**

_Six year old Casey sat curled up on her bed while talking to the stuffed animals lined up in front of her. She poured an imaginary cup of tea for the wolf to the right side of the animal line-up. She then patted his head gently. "Sip, okay? Piper says tea makes everything better."_

_"It was an accident," her father's heavily accented voice carried up the stairs. "She did not mean to cause problems."_

_"You always take her side. I'm always the bad guy, is that it?"_

_"No. You do not understand– "_

_"– And never will. Magic isn't something I can understand because I'm not one of you. I don't fight demons, cast spells or even make potions. I sure as hell don't freeze other adults when we get into an argument."_

_Casey's chin quivered, her round eyes flicking to the closed door of her room. Her breath shook as she returned her gaze back to her animals. She picked up Bedtime Bear, hugging him against her chest. "It's okay. Mommy still loves me. Daddy said so. You don't have to be scared. Promise."_

_"Pam, she is only a little girl."_

_"No, if she were only a little girl, we wouldn't be having this conversation. She's a witch, and she hangs out with those two. . .two. . .Halliwell boys– whatever they are– constantly coming and going and taking her wherever it is they want to go without any repercussions."_

_"Chris and Wyatt are good boys. They do not do anything to hurt her. Is play. No harm in play, _verdad_?"_

_"No, Ricardo. What they do is not play. It's abnormal and dangerous."_

_Casey bit her lip, rocking back and forth with Bedtime Bear still wrapped in her arms. Now, her eyes were locked on the closed door, her ears focused on the muffled, angry voices._

_"Magic, it is beautiful. It is part of the world–_ completemente normal."

_"Turning a little boy into a toad and leaving him in our tub is not normal."_

_The little girl eavesdropping looked at the stuffed wolf staring up at her with his jet black eyes. "He called me a girl and said I couldn't play ball." When the animal kept staring at her, she turned him around to face the wall._

_"It is work of a child," her father was arguing. "Like pulling hair, eh?"_

_"No. It's not. It's freakish and frightening, and I __hate you for making my daughter one of you because I know it's only going to end badly."_

Casey had only been a child when she'd over heard the argument between her parents. However, even after all these years, she could remember almost every word her mother had spoken. For a long time, she tried to pretend she hadn't been called a freak by her own mother, the look in her mom's eyes wasn't one of anxious fear. As she got older, all the pretending stopped. Then, it just hurt. Now? Now, she couldn't help but wonder if her mother had been right all along.

Sitting on Chris' bed, holding Dara in her hands, Casey smiled softly at the face of her doll, fingering the yarn making up the old present's hair. "You and me have been through a lot together. Wonder how many more years we'll have before I run out of time."

Letting out a breath, she tried to stop dwelling on the hard-hitting news she'd received from her own son. It was impossible to do so, though. Her entire life, she'd been plagued by sharp anxiety attacks over her own mortality. When the lights went off at night, her mind seemed to turn to fatalistic thoughts: What happens when someone dies? Does life continue or is it simply game over? The unanswerable question terrified her beyond measure. Her chest would grow tight, her breaths short and ragged as her brain was flooded with untempered panic, as though she were dying that very second. If left unchecked, the condition would continue to near sobbing while crying out for the nearest human being.

Her cries usually rendered orb lights appearing in her room, taking the form of Chris or Wyatt, depending on who heard her first. By now, they were pros at calming her down and snapping her from her hysteria. The two were so fast, by the time her father could walk down the hall to her room, she was already settled down as one of the brothers hugged her and whispered soothingly.

She'd been getting these attacks since she turned twelve. She wasn't sure why. Partly, she supposed it had to do with her first questioning of religion. Partly, the change in her hormone levels. Or perhaps, she'd always known somewhere deep down that Death would come for her far earlier than anyone else expected.

"Hey."

Her depressing line of thinking broken by the familiar voice, the young woman set her childhood doll to the side, looking up at Chris as he stood in the doorway. He looked pale and shaky. For once, she didn't care.

Licking his lips and folding his arms over his chest, the witchlighter nervously asked, "Can I come in?"

Casey got off the bed, moving to fiddle with something in the duffle bag resting on the desk just as an excuse not to look at him. "It's your room."

"Yeah, but right now, you're using it, which kind of makes it your room."

"Then no."

Chris raised his brows, taken back by the response. After taking a second to regroup, he shot back, "Fine, it is my room, and I'll come in if I want to."

The young man moved into the room, marching up behind her. When she didn't look at him, he positioned himself in her line of sight. When she merely grabbed a book from the duffle and turned back to the bed, ignoring him, the young man dropped his hands to his sides in frustration. "Real mature."

"I said I didn't want you to come in. You entered at your own risk."

"So, what? We're not ever going to talk about what happened?"

"Forgive me for not wanting another attack wherein you call me a manipulative slut who uses my father's death as an excuse."

"I'm sorry, okay?"

"No. Not okay, Chris," she answered, loudly closing her book. "I get what a huge mistake I made. But, it doesn't give you the right to treat me like some gum you stepped in. I tried to stop what happened, but you wouldn't let me. You said you needed me. You kept going even after I said not to. What happened in a lot of ways was my fault since I didn't drink as much as you did, but, Chris, I loved you. You _knew_ I loved you, and you _used_ me. You had your way with me to ease your all mighty pain. Then? Then, you called me Molly."

Chris ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes as the events hit him all over again. When he opened his eyes, he could see just how much he'd hurt one of the few people on the planet he really cared about. His voice was tight as he uttered, "I am so sorry."

Casey didn't say anything.

"I don't know what to say here," Chris went on. "I messed up. Big time. First at the bar. . .with you. Now, all the things I said. I didn't mean them. I was just," he let out a breath, "scared. And, I didn't exactly find out about all this in the best way, so I reacted in a really shitty way."

"Really, really shitty."

The young man gave a half smile, nodding. "Yeah."

"When we were kids, you promised you would always catch me. This time, you were actually the one to drop me."

Chris didn't have any response. He remembered the moment he'd promised to always be her hero, always be the one to save her. He'd not only failed to protect her, but he'd been the one to bring the tears to her eyes this time.

"You really hurt me."

"I know."

"Do you?"

The young man saw a difference in her gaze, some little change most would never notice. To him, it was like seeing a whole new woman. Some little glimmer had gone out, and no longer did he see his childhood friend sitting before him, but a grown woman broken by almost everyone she'd ever trusted. In the end, he'd given the biggest contribution to ending what was left of her innocence. "You've been my best friend for as long as I can remember, and ever since you've gotten back, I haven't treated you like it. First, that night you were with Wyatt, and now, again. I know I've pretty much screwed up at every opportunity here, but, Casey, I do love you. If I could go back and change things, make them better, I would."

The other witch pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her chin on them. She stared at him for a moment, studying his face while weighing his words. After a moment, she softly questioned, "What happens now?"

Chris took a seat next to her on the bed, recognizing the fact his apology had just been accepted. "I don't know."

"Lucky seemed like a really good kid. Despite having us as parents."

The witchlighter chuckled. "Yeah. Wonder how the hell that happens."

"Molly seems to have a good effect on him." Casey bit her lower lip, staring at Chris' green comforter. "I suppose she's his mom now."

Chris turned to look at his friend, a frown on his brow. "What do you mean?"

"I'm dead. He needs a mother, and it seems to become Molly."

The young man wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her against his side. "No one could ever replace you, Case. Not even Molly. You'll always be Lucas' mom. Always. Besides, you really think I'm going to let you die on me? I can't do this without you."

"You'll have Molly in the future."

Chris lifted her chin gently. "Doesn't mean I still won't need _you_. Got it?"

"Got it," she softly answered. "What did happen to Molly?"

"She found out about you. Needless to say, it went down hill from there. Her futureself says we're together in the future, but I don't know how it's possible. The look on her face when she found out. . .it felt like I'd literally stabbed her in the back. She pretty much hates me when she's not completely disgusted by the very sight of me. I don't blame her either. Self loathing is pretty high right now."

"You'll work it out. After all, her future version definitely seemed confident. She even kissed you to seal the deal. As I see it, this Molly can't hate you forever. She loves you too much."

"I hope you're right. For now, I just plan on giving her whatever space she needs."

"Probably a good idea."

"So," Chris turned his jade eyes on her face, "you and Wyatt. . ."

"I know what you're thinking, and you're way off."

"Am I?" he questioned, dubious. "You've been in love with me for a long time, never once mentioning anything about feelings for Wyatt, and now, I hurt you, and you're suddenly dating my brother. You can't blame me for being suspicious. He may be all powerful, but Wyatt is still my brother, and I've got to look out for the big oaf."

"It's always been Wyatt, Chris," she firmly started. "For as long as I can remember, he was the one I felt safe with. Part of me was always attracted to him, but he's Twice Blessed and my best friend's older brother. It seemed like trying to touch the sun. He always seemed so. . .out of reach. It wasn't until just recently I started to see how human he really is."

"If you really had feelings for Wyatt, what was I?"

"Passion," she admitted, blushing.

Chris' eyebrows went up. "Oh really?"

The young woman rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah. You are the epitome of the bad boy with a heart of gold. Every moment with you was a strange sort of adventure. I never knew which side of you I was going to get day to day. Moody and sarcastic or gentle and loving. You're exciting and fiery, and I thought that was love. It wasn't. What you and Molly have is love. She's the one to really bring out the best in you."

"So, you really love Wyatt?"

"I care about him a lot, but I'm not going to rush the 'l' word. We're taking things slow."

"Good."

"You actually okay with our dating?"

"Honestly? A little weirded out by it. But, if you two are happy, I'll get over it."

Casey rested her head on his shoulder. "Our baby is going to need a shrink."

Chris grinned, resting his head on hers while he played with her hair. "Just makes him a Halliwell."

000

Wyatt decided it would be a good idea to take Sam for a walk, as odd as it sounded when he'd voiced his decision aloud to Casey earlier. In any case, he figured leaving Casey and Chris alone in the house was bound to get them talking again as neither of them was capable of staying angry at the other for too terribly long.

More importantly, he needed some time alone to think. After everything he'd heard about the future and the way his future nephew looked at him with pure, unbridled hatred, he just wanted to try to figure out how it could all go so wrong.

Plus, Sam was thinking about peeing on the carpet if no one took him out soon. So, here he was, in a park waiting for his former nemesis to go pee-pee.

"Would you hurry up, Sam?"

_Smells like other dogs. Gotta mark my territory. I'm a big dog._

"No, you're a human. Do try to remember that," Wyatt remarked, rubbing his hands together for a little warmth.

_Bulldog pee. Weak. Mine's better._ Sam lifted, aimed and fired on the oak tree he was standing next to. _My spot now._

"Dude, you're not really a dog. If you don't remember this key point, I'm going to be stuck doing this for the next twenty years, which I seriously don't want to do."

The dachshund tilted his head to the side, blinking his big brown eyes up at the witch. _Better as dog._

"No argument here," Wyatt agreed. "Though, on principle, I thought I should try to convince you to work toward being a real boy again."

_Saved her_.

"Once. Though, I'm betting that was more about a dog's innate sense regarding evil rather than any real desire to help another human being."

_Care about her._

"I know the feeling."

Sam growled lowly, hopping up and down on his short doggy legs.

The Twice Blessed rolled his eyes. "Are you serious? You're a dachshund. Other animals take dumps bigger than you. I could drop kick you over the jungle gym easy."

The tiny dog suddenly lost interest in Wyatt as a squirrel ran by. He took off for the grey creature, yapping the whole way. Or at least as far as the leash would stretch at which point he was jerked backwards.

Wyatt shook his head and was about to comment about Sam's unchanged IQ level when he heard his Aunt Phoebe's voice cut into his mind with a sharp yell of his name. Glancing around the area to make sure no one was watching, he orbed he and the dog to his Aunt and Uncle's home.

When he and Sam materialized, it was to find his aunt ducked behind her kitchen table, her laptop fallen on the ground next to her with a spilled mug of coffee. On the other side of the kitchen stood three demons Wyatt didn't recognize.

Raising his hands into the air, the Twice Blessed sent out a wave of energy, completely annihilating all three attackers at once, blowing them into bits as they screamed their way to the wasteland.

"Thank you so much, Wyatt," Phoebe said, rising from her position behind the table. "I didn't know what they were, and I didn't have any potions. Not to mention, they had zero emotions coming from them so my empathy didn't even work. I was a sitting duck."

"What kind of demons don't have feelings? Most are filled with hatred and anger."

Phoebe frowned, pointing at the dog currently lapping up the spilled coffee on her floor. "What is that?"

"Sam."

"Sam?"

"Casey's ex-boyfriend."

His aunt smiled softly, shaking her head. "Wyatt, I know you love her, and you want to be with her, but it does not make it okay to turn the competition into a dog. If you're going to win her heart you really need to do it through non-magical means."

"I did," Wyatt defended himself. "Kip did this, not me. I just got stuck with dog-duty."

"Wait, you did?"

"Get her heart. Casey and I started dating this morning."

Phoebe looked skeptical. "That was kinda fast..."

"Can we save the poor-dumb-Wyatt- can't-you-see-she's-using-you lecture till later, Aunt Pheebs? I've heard it enough from Chris. Besides, we have demons to i.d., right?"

"Okay. Okay. I won't say a word about you and Casey. But for the record, I figure she belonged with you from the start. I just didn't think it would be quite so easy for her to figure it out."

"Thank you."

Phoebe pulled a face as she spotted her computer. "I really hope those demons didn't make me lose my column."

"Come on," Wyatt held out a hand, "I'll orb you to the manor. Hopefully, we'll find them in the Book of Shadows."

000

Piper Halliwell set her keys on the table in the entryway while removing her coat. She spotted Prue standing in the livingroom. She moved to the closet and hung up her coat. Once her coat was hanging peacefully with all the other jackets, her mind registered what her eyes had seen. Her lips parted as she numbly turned away from the closet to find her big sister still standing in her livingroom.

With eyes already brimming with tears, the Charmed One swallowed the enormous lump in her throat. Her voice was small and unsure as she asked, "Prue?"

The blue eyed woman smiled softly at her little sister. "Hey."

"Oh, my God, Prue," Piper breathed, dropping her purse on the floor and rushing to her sister's side. She immediately wrapped her arms around Prue, lying her head on the other woman's shoulder as tears began to stroll down her cheeks. Her voice was shaky and almost childlike in its fear tinged wonder. "Is it really you?"

"It's really me, Piper," the older sister assured her, stroking the younger woman's hair like she had when they were little girls. "I'm really here."

"Prue, I've missed you so much. When you," Piper choked on the word. "I didn't know what to do. We were so lost, and I was so scared. I didn't know what I was supposed to do without my big sister. We'd spent our whole lives together and then suddenly you were gone."

"You took on the role as head of this family and did an amazing job, Piper. I couldn't be more proud of you."

"I never stopped missing you," the younger sister continued. "Every day I thought of you, and I just wanted to see you again. Now, you're here."

"Oh, Sweetie, I missed you too, but I promise you, I'm not going anywhere ever again."

Piper pulled away, her brown eyes even bigger than usual. "You mean. . .?"

"I'm a whitelighter, Piper."

"A whitelighter? I don't understand. Since when?"

"Maybe, we should sit down. I have a lot to tell you. . ."

"No, wait. We should call Phoebe and Paige. Oh, my God, Paige. You've never even gotten a chance to meet her. She's always wanted to meet you. She's going to be so excited, and Phoebe too."

Prue took hold of her little sister's arm. "No, Piper, wait."

"Wait? Wait for what? You were taken from us for twenty years, Prue. I don't want to waste a single second more. I'm sure Phoebe and Paige will feel the same way."

"Maybe," the older sister hedged, "but I'm not ready for that just now."

Piper frowned. "Not ready? To see your own sisters? Prue, what are you talking about?"

The familiar jingle of orbs sounded nearby. Prue, worried about who it might be, took a few steps back, hiding herself behind the wall separating the entry and the livingroom.

Orb lights swirled into the entryway forming into the youngest Charmed One. Unable to see Prue from where she was standing, Paige had no idea why her oldest sister seemed to be crying. "Piper, what's wrong? Is it Chris?"

"No, it's not Chris, Paige."

"Really? Because I thought Molly's funeral was yesterday, and I figured he'd be pretty shaken up about it. I actually came by to check on him. Weren't you supposed to be at the restaurant this morning?"

"Done early," Piper answered. "Now, there's someone I want you to meet."

Prue shook her head, and prepared to orb away, but after having raised two half-whitelighter sons the oldest surviving Charmed One was more than capable of spotting when someone was about to teleport themselves from a room and grabbed hold of her big sister's arm to stop her from doing so.

Paige came into the livingroom, looking past Piper in order to spot the guest. Her mouth fell open, her eyes growing twice their size. "Prue?"

tbc. . .


	33. How Soon is Now?

CHAPTER 32

How Soon is Now?

Paige Matthews was a woman who for many years had lived in the shadow of a memory. While she had found her family almost twenty years ago, becoming not only a witch but a sister, she in some ways always felt herself to be a replacement– valued and loved, but not necessarily as much so as the lost original. The feelings of inadequacy had faded greatly over the years, almost disappearing entirely, but a nagging thought always stuck with her: You're still not Prue.

However, as much as she envied the other woman's never changing place at the forefront of her sisters' hearts, Paige's desire to meet the legendary lost Charmed One and eldest sister had never faded even marginally. Prue represented, in many ways, everything Paige had wanted to become all those years ago. Prue was a respected and loved sister, a powerful witch and a successful woman. She'd accomplished such great feats in her short life, Paige was forced to work ten times as hard just to rise to her level, to feel worthy of being the replacement of someone so amazing.

Most of all, she wanted to know the woman her indomitable older sister, Piper, had idolized, and the big sister who had taught Phoebe how to be the successful, mature woman she'd become. Paige wanted to know the sister she'd only heard stories about.

Now, Prue was standing in front of her.

Paige didn't even pause to think. Her eyes shining from the emotion she'd held in for so long, she rushed forward, surprising herself by wrapping her arms around the big sister she'd never met.

Prue, equally surprised, looked to Piper, who was smiling wisely.

The oldest surviving Charmed One commented knowingly, "Paige has been waiting a long time to meet you, Prue. You're her hero."

"I am?" Prue questioned, completely taken back.

Piper nodded, folding her arms over her chest. Her brown eyes narrowed slightly, the last of her suspicions regarding her older sister's behavior confirmed. "You seem surprised."

Paige pulled out of the embrace, her cheeks moist as she swallowed the nervous lump in her throat. "I'm sorry. Wow. Okay, I've officially used up all my lame points this year. You don't even know me, and I totally just threw myself at you." She murmured to herself, "Way to go freaking her out, Paige."

Prue found herself smiling softly at her youngest sister. Paige was certainly unique. Nothing like either Piper or Phoebe, yet she definitely fit the part of a Halliwell. Her long dark hair, softly curled toward the bottom reminded the whitelighter of their mother. Paige had their mother's eyes too. As well as the Halliwell jaw as Grams had dubbed it.

"It's just," Paige continued, "I've heard so much about you. I probably know everything there is to know about you. Piper and Phoebe were always telling me things– Leo too. I feel like I know you, you know? Probably, not. . .cause you are looking at me like I am a complete idiot."

"No, not at all," Prue negated. "I just can't believe how much you look like mom."

The youngest sister's face broke out into a light-filled smile. "You think so?"

"Yeah. Definitely."

"This is just so. . .I mean there are so many things I've wanted to ask you and to talk to you about, and now, I can't think of a single one," Paige rambled.

Piper cut in, "Don't worry, Paige. You'll have time. Prue's staying."

Paige's brow crinkled in pure confusion. "Uh, okay, color me confused. How is that possible? Not to be indelicate or anything, but you're dead."

The oldest sister let out a short little laugh. "Wow, you really get straight to the point, don't you?"

Paige pulled a face, pulling up her shoulders, "I'm sorry. I can't help it. Sometimes the words just come out of my mouth."

"Don't worry. I'm not one for beating around the bush either."

The youngest of the sisters let relief wash over her features. "Oh, good. So, back to my question then. . .?"

"She's a whitelighter," Piper filled in.

"Who's a whitelighter?" Phoebe's voice floated down the stairs.

Prue stepped forward to get a view of her little sister. What she saw nearly knocked her off her feet. Phoebe was a grown woman, even more strikingly beautiful than ever. Her hair was dark, softly waved, her deep brown eyes wiser. The psychic's face was partly buried in the Book of Shadows, which to Prue's amazement had doubled in size since the last time she'd seen it.

Piper gracefully moved in front of Prue, stopping Phoebe at the bottom of the stairs. "Sweetie, someone's here you need to see."

"Piper, not right now. I was attacked by demons back at the apartment, and I've got a column due at five, and the girls need to be picked up from dance class at six. I really don't have time to meet anyone right now."

The oldest Charmed One pulled the Book of Shadows from the other's hands while she used her big sister voice. "Pheebs, trust me on this one. Now, get your skinny butt into the livingroom."

Phoebe, rolling her eyes, did as her sister said, marching into the livingroom while still complaining, "Okay, but if the demons attack here next, don't yell at me. I tried to– "

The empath stopped dead, her lips parting as she saw just who her big sister had wanted her to meet. Her eyes immediately began to well with tears. Her voice caught as she quietly asked, "P-prue?"

"Phoebe," Prue gently greeted.

The middle Charmed One felt tears trailing down her face as her breath caught in her throat. She wanted nothing more than to run into her big sister's arms, but fear and guilt kept her rooted in place.

"She's really back," Paige said. Noticing her older sister's deer-in-headlights expression she frowned. "Phoebe?"

The matriarch of the family moved to Phoebe's side, putting a hand on her shoulder. "Prue doesn't blame you for what happened." Piper turned a look to her older sister. "Do you, Prue?"

The oldest of the girls frowned in total shock at the words. "Phoebe, is that what you think?"

"If I hadn't gone after Cole, I would have been there. Leo would have been there," the younger woman choked out.

Prue covered the distance between her and her sister in a few strides. She pulled the psychic into an embrace, stroking the other woman's hair gently, hushing her half-sobs. "Sweetie, what happened was no one's fault. I never blamed you. Not for one minute."

Phoebe pulled away, keeping her eyes to the ground. "I was always such a screw-up, and you were always bailing me out. Then, finally, I messed up so badly it cost you your life."

"Hey, look at me," Prue ordered. Once the command had been filled, "You did not kill me, Phoebe. Shax did. You couldn't have known what would happen. So, stop blaming yourself."

"Prue, I've missed you so much. I'm not the same person I was– I swear. I have a career I love, and I'm really good at. I'm an advise columnist, which I always thought you would think was pretty ironic; the girl who almost threw away her future, giving advice to other people about theirs."

Prue wrinkled her nose. "To be honest, that's exactly what I thought the first time I saw an Ask Phoebe billboard. But, I am so proud of you, Pheebs. You've really come into your own. The advice you give is both insightful and caring."

"You read my column?"

"Of course."

Phoebe shook her head. "This is just so surreal. I've only dreamed of this moment about a thousand times before."

"I've missed you too."

Paige cut in, "Not to interrupt the Kodak moment, but I'm still kinda stuck on the whole you being a whitelighter thing."

Piper, who had placed the family tome on the coffee table and had taken a seat on the edge of the couch, snorted derisively. "Yet another thing the almighty Elders kept from us."

"Who cares?" Phoebe put in. "We have our sister back now. Nothing else matters."

Prue was both touched and surprised by the sentiment. It was no secret she and Phoebe hadn't always gotten along. To see and hear her little sister missed her so much nearly brought tears to her eyes.

"While I agree with you in theory," Piper argued, "the point still stands. They lied to us. Who knows how many more years we could have had together if we would have known the truth."

The whitelighter raised her brows at her other sister's attitude. Little Piper had grown up too. No more was she afraid to speak her mind, a quiet and slightly timid woman. Piper Halliwell had become the matriarch, a true force to be reckoned with. Prue wasn't sure whether to feel happy about the new found strength in her sister or saddened by what forced her into it.

"Speaking of which," Paige picked up, "where _have_ you been all this time?"

"Working with charges. As for the Elders, they kept me away so you could all adjust. Then, I was just needed elsewhere."

"Elsewhere?" Piper hotly repeated.

Prue frowned at what she felt was an uncharacteristic sharpness in Piper's tone. "I had a new destiny to fulfill. One that demanded my whole attention. Now, I'm back to help Molly with her role."

"You know Molly?" Phoebe softly questioned.

"I'm her mentor."

Paige held up her hands. "Hold on just a second. Are you saying Molly has been with you this whole time? But, now, since you're here, I'm going to assume she's here too?"

Prue nodded. "Yeah. We're both back for good."

"Ah, crap."

All eyes turned to Piper.

The molecular manipulating witch explained, "I haven't had a chance to check up on Chris. Something happened last night; I know it. Now, if Molly's back there could be the potential for major fireworks."

"What exactly do you think happened last night?" Phoebe asked.

Prue turned her eyes away.

"Hey, Aunt Phoebe, did you find it?" Wyatt called down.

Piper smirked. "One way to find out for sure." She called back, "Wyatt, Honey, could you come down here, please?"

Paige shook her head. "Playing the sibling card. That's playing dirty, Missy."

Piper rolled her eyes at the remark.

The Twice Blessed trotted into the livingroom. He tilted his head to the side as he saw Prue. He then turned his attention to his mother. "Hey, Mom. . .do you see my dead aunt sitting there too?"

"Hi, Wyatt, it's nice to finally meet you."

"Wait a minute," the teen started piecing together, "Molly said something about a Prue. For some reason I just didn't put it together with you, but if you're here, then you're obviously the one she was talking about. You're her guide, right?"

"You got it."

Piper reminded, "Wyatt, manners."

The tall young man turned a shade of red. "Oops. Sorry." He held out his hand to his aunt. "Nice to meet you too."

"Now, you saw Molly?" Piper started her interrogating.

"Yeah. . .she was here this morning."

"Where is she now?"

Prue saved her nephew from answering, "She came back home. I saw her this afternoon. She was taking a nap when I left. It's been a pretty hectic time for her."

Piper narrowed her eyes at her oldest son. "You know something, Wyatt Matthew Halliwell. I can see it in your face. Spill. What happened? Why isn't she spending every last second with Chris?"

"No reason. . ."

"Wyatt. . ."

"They might have possibly gotten into a little fight this afternoon."

Piper arched a brow.

"A big fight?"

"Over?"

"Chris and Casey. . ."

His mother folded her arms over her chest. "What about them, Wyatt?"

"Um. . .well, you see. . ."

Prue, feeling for her nephew, bit the bullet for him. "Casey and Chris had sex. Molly found out."

"Oh my god."

Phoebe's hands flew to her mouth in total shock.

Paige crinkled her nose.

"I knew it," Piper murmured, closing her eyes. "I just knew it."

"Can I be excused?" Wyatt asked, fidgeting.

"Yes."

"Nice meeting you again," the Twice Blessed offered before running from the room.

"Where was he off to in such a hurry?" Paige wondered aloud.

Phoebe smiled faintly, "Probably went to warn Chris about Piper."

"She's pregnant isn't she?" Piper questioned aloud. "It all fits. Phoebe's premonition. . .Molly's return. . .your return. . .things like this never are a coincidence." She turned a piercing look to her older sister. "Prue, what do you know about this?"

"Yes, Piper," the whitelighter confessed, "Casey is pregnant with Chris' child. It was fated to happen, and Molly is meant to be the child's whitelighter. It's why we were allowed to come back."

"I can't believe this," Phoebe breathed. "Poor Wyatt. . ."

Piper raised her eyes to her sister. "What? What about Wyatt?"

"He's dating Casey, and she's pregnant with his brother's child."

Paige cracked, "It's like we live in a soap opera."

No one was amused.

The witchlighter mumbled, "Well, it is. . ."

000

Leo had agreed to help Piper with the club tonight as he managed to finish his work at the Magic School earlier in the day. So, after a grueling morning teaching advanced magic, grading papers, and dealing with day-to-day politics of running a school, Leo got to run the sound check for some heavy metal band (receiving a rather painful headache half-way through), argue with the beer supplier to demand the shipment make it on time for opening, and deal with an employee caught stealing. Needless to say, the man was more than ready for a little down time back home. Most of all, he wanted to check on his son. Chris had been through the worst imaginable loss, and the father just wanted to make sure he was holding up.

Parking his truck in the driveway, the former Elder was surprised to find a strange man sitting on the stoop, looking up at the stars. The guy seemed vaguely familiar, but for the life of him, Leo couldn't put a name to the face.

"Can I help you with something?" Leo asked.

The dark haired man lowered his gaze to the former Elder. He smiled as he saw who it was. "Leo Wyatt."

"Yes. How did you know my name? Have we met before?"

"Once. Long, long time ago. Doubt you'd remember. The name is Andy. Andy Trudeau. And trust me when I tell you, you do not want to go in there right now."

"I don't? Why?"

Andy rose from the stoop, grabbing hold of Leo's arm. "Let's grab a beer. I'll fill you in."

000

Casey was more than ready for bed at this point. The day had been unbelievably hectic. Finding out she was pregnant, getting kidnapped, getting saved by her future son, dealing with Chris. . .it was enough to make a girl want to sleep about twenty hours. So, she'd washed her face, brushed her teeth, and changed into her favorite purple cotton pjs, ready for a good night's sleep. However, just as she moved to turn off the bedside lamp, Wyatt poked his head into the room.

"Where's Chris?"

"No hello? Or how are you doing? Cute pajamas. Nothing? Just where's Chris?"

Wyatt grinned. "Cute pajamas. Now, where's my brother?"

His girlfriend rolled her pretty brown eyes at him. "Your room. He's finishing up some math before he hits the sack."

"Okay, thanks."

Casey was tempted to crawl out of the cosy bed to find out what the emergency was but in the end decided whatever it was the two brothers could handle it on their own. If they needed her they'd come get her. So, she flicked off her light and cuddled into her pillow.

The odd thing was a new light appeared about five minutes after she closed her eyes. She opened one to see what it was, surprised to find orb lights deliver an envelope to the foot of the bed. Turning back on the light, she sat up, reaching down to pick up the magically delivered letter.

It was addressed to Chris.

000

X should equal 98. The back of the book said Y was -14.8 and X was 98. Only Chris had done the same problem three times and each and every time X ended up being a negative 43. So, in complete and total frustration, the youth scrunched up his scratch paper, tossing it over his shoulder, throwing himself backward onto the air mattress.

"Whoa."

Chris tilted his head further back to see Wyatt standing upside down in the doorway, the discarded ball of paper in his hand. Or at least he looked upside down from the younger brother's point of view.

"What's with the projectile homework?"

"Hate math."

"Aren't you the math genius? The one who thinks solving chemistry equations is fun?"

Chris sat back up and swung his legs around so he was facing his brother. "It's pointless."

"Since when?"

"Since I'm not going to finish school anyway."

"I'm really hoping I didn't just hear what I think I just heard."

"Someone has to stay home once the baby is born. Work and care for the kid. Casey has always dreamed of going to college, but I don't really care. As long as I've got a kitchen, nothing else matters. I don't see Mom firing me anytime in the near future, so what do I need to finish for? I should let Case go."

"I don't think she'll see it that way."

"I'll convince her then."

"You know what? There's time to think of all that stuff later. I have something I need to tell you."

"What?"

Wyatt plopped down on the air mattress along with his brother. He closed his sibling's text book, setting it aside. His eyes then locked on his brother's. "Mom knows."

"You told her? How could you?"

The Twice Blessed held up his hands. "I did no such thing. . .our dead Aunt told her."

"Prue's here?"

Wyatt narrowed his blue eyes. "Wait. You knew she wasn't totally dead? You knew, and you didn't tell me?"

"I promised I wouldn't. It was against some dumb rule. Besides, you're worse than Phoebe when it comes to keeping secrets. I couldn't say anything to you."

"I am not that bad."

Chris shot him a look.

"Okay, fine."

"I'm sorry, though. For what it's worth."

Wyatt held out a fist, which Chris bumped with his own, amounting to the guy form of an accepted apology.

"So," Chris ventured a little nervously, "on a scale of one to ten, how pissed is Mom about this?"

"Not sure. I sorta ran for cover before something went boom. Though, considering how much she lost it when she thought I was having a kid, I'm going to say she's going to be even less thrilled it's actually yours since you're only a junior in highschool."

Chris ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. I can handle Mom. I can. I'm her baby boy. I just have to work that angle. Give her the puppy dog eyes and say how much I need her right now– which is totally true. Without Mom and Dad's support on this, I'm screwed. Whether I drop out or not."

"Drop out?" Casey's voice drew their attention. She was standing in the doorway in her lavender pajamas, a worried look marring her soft brow. "Chris, you can't seriously think dropping out of school is going to be an option. Right?"

Wyatt smirked at his little brother. "Told ya."

Chris rolled his eyes.

"Christopher Perry Halliwell, you are our class' number one student. You're practically a genius. How can you possibly think of throwing it all away?"

"I thought we decided you were pregnant with my baby. Or did I miss some memo where we were all proven wrong?"

"So? If someone has to quit school, it'll be me."

Wyatt's head whipped around. "No, no, no. What is with this insane idea. Nobody is dropping out of school."

"I can't exactly finish my senior year as I'm nine months pregnant, Wyatt," Casey pointed out. "It's okay. I'll get my GED. Plus, if I stay home the first year, Chris can finish school. Where we go from there. . .I don't know."

"Case, you want to go to college. I don't. It isn't right you lose your dream because of this."

The oldest of three formed a 'T' with his hands. "Timeout. Case isn't even a week along. Do you two really have to be talking about ruining your lives right this second? Bigger issues need to be dealt with first– like stopping Mom from blowing up our home."

"Piper knows?"

Chris nodded, "Yeah."

"She's going to kill me."

"More like kill me," Chris countered. "You're practically the daughter she never had. She has a spare son."

"I say, we get to Dad," Wyatt suggested. "He's the softy. We concentrate on him then he can calm Mom down and get her to see how manageable the situation really is when looked at from a calm, rational view point."

"In other words," Casey picked up, "we pit your parents against one another?"

"Sorta."

"I like it," Chris said. "Case, you in?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"No," both brothers responded.

"Well, then, I guess so."

Chris noticed for the first time something in her hand. "Hey, what's that?"

"It's for you, which is actually why I came in here in the first place," she answered, handing over the letter. "It orbed onto my bed. I think it's from Molly."

Wyatt tried to peek over the top of the letter to see what it said, but Casey put her hands over his eyes. He pulled her down onto the mattress with them, holding her while his little brother read over the letter. When Chris' face didn't change expressions, the older brother shot her a questioning look, to which she merely shrugged in response.

Chris didn't notice them. He was too busy staring at the simple words on the paper. _Chris, I want to find a way to work things out. Meet me after school tomorrow at_ _our tree. – Molly._

tbc. . .


	34. Secret's Out

Some people were confused about the ages so here ya go:

Wyatt-19  
Molly-19  
Chris-17  
Casey-17 (the senior year comment was about the fact she would be in her senior year by the time she was nine months along)  
Jessica- 17  
Kip- 17

CHAPTER 33

**Secret's Out**

Her son was going to be a daddy. It seemed like such a short time ago Chris was a little boy with big, round green eyes, constantly pulling on the hem of her shirt in the kitchen, wanting nothing more than to spend every moment with her– to be like her. She loved both her sons, but in some ways, Chris would always hold a special place in her heart. She had known him before he had even been born. Loved him as a twenty-two year old man who had risked everything for his family. More importantly and more recently, she loved him as her baby boy. The youngest child. The one who could bat his big green eyes at her and get away with murder. Her Peanut.

_Piper Halliwell smiled down at her four year old son, snuggled up in his bed, the covers pulled up to his little chin. "Goodnight, Peanut."_

__

He gestured with his tiny finger for her to bend down. When she complied, he sweetly kissed her cheek. His big green eyes stared up at her with total adoration. "I love you, Mommy."

Her baby boy. He wasn't ready for this. He just wasn't. He was only seventeen years old. _Seventeen_.

"Piper?" Prue questioned.

As the oldest Charmed One stared at the carpet, a cushion from the seat exploded, stuffing and fabric flying through the air. Her gaze, filled with hot, unshed tears, flicked up to her big sister. "He's just a boy."

"He's closer to becoming a man than you realize, Piper."

"A _man_?"

The glass of the grandfather clock shattered.

Paige cringed. "Don't poke the bear."

Prue, ignoring the warning, pushed on, "Yes, a man. He'll be a legal adult in less than a year."

With sparks flying, the television went next.

"Oh, she poked the bear," the youngest remarked to the next youngest.

Phoebe, ignoring Paige, turned to Piper, "Sweetie, I know you have every reason to be upset, but destroying your home isn't really an answer."

"Then what is, Phoebe? Hmm? Tell me because I would really like to know how I'm supposed to deal with the fact my little boy is becoming a father. He hasn't even finished High School."

"Chris is one smart guy," Paige tried next. "He will be just fine. He'll finish school, maybe even go on to college. We just have to be supportive."

"Supportive? What exactly am I supposed to be supportive about, Paige? He knocked up his best friend, a girl with major emotional damage, and who now just happens to be dating Wyatt, which is a whole 'nother reason for me to be freaking out because my oldest son is probably going to get his heart broken into a million pieces. Meanwhile, Chris is actually in love with Molly, the girlfriend he sort of cheated on."

Paige pulled a face, turning to Phoebe, "Okay, I'm out."

"My turn?" Phoebe let out a breath. "Okay, maybe it would be best if you just slept on this whole thing. Give yourself a chance to calm down and let the information settle before you confront Chris about it."

Piper's anger melted as a tear finally fell from her doe brown eyes. She put her hands up to her face, shaking her head. As Prue immediately moved to wrap her up in a hug, Piper let herself break down into full blown tears. "I don't know how to fix this."

Prue stroked her sister's hair, pushing it back from her face. "Piper, everything will work out the way it is meant to. Besides, Chris isn't alone. He's got three aunts who all love him like crazy, a brother who would die for him, not to mention you and Leo. As long as you keep calm and decide to just do whatever has to be done to help them, this doesn't have to mean the end of your son's future."

"Chris babysat for me enough," Paige offered, "it's only fair me and Henry return the favor. . ."

Piper smiled at the joke, wiping her face dry.

"At least it's Casey," Phoebe picked up. "She and Chris share a really deep bond, and I think that even if they are really young, they'll still make good parents in the end. Plus, you always said you wished Casey were your daughter. . .now, she really is part of the family."

"Plus," Paige excitedly added, "can you imagine how adorable the baby will be?"

"Ooh, a little bitty baby with a tiny pink face all scrunched up," Phoebe cooed.

Piper rolled her eyes, laughing softly. "Same old Phoebe."

"A baby is always a miracle," Prue softly spoke. "It's not something we should wish away."

"You're right," Piper conceded. "We have a new Halliwell on the way. The baby should be the only important thing. As for my son. . .I will be dealing with him tomorrow."

000

Wyatt's eyes snapped open as he heard a loud thud followed by muffled words. Listening for further sounds, he could hear at least two male voices coming from somewhere downstairs. Cabinets and drawers were opening and closing.

Curious, the young man yanked off his covers, slowly forcing himself to get up from the warmth of his bed. He groped for the nearest wall, almost completely blind in the pitch dark of night. When he found it, he slid his hand against it, moving toward his door. The only problem with his plan was he forgot his little brother was currently sleeping on his floor on the air mattress and ended up tripping on the edge of the make-shift bed, falling on top of his sleeping sibling.

With a pained moan, Chris woke. In a shouted whisper, he questioned, "Wyatt, what the hell are you doing?"

"Don't you ever just feel like cuddling?" The Twice Blessed dead-panned.

Chris shoved the other teenager away. "Get off me."

The older sibling scrambled to get back on his feet. "Someone's downstairs."

"Who?"

"Someone. Don't know who. Wanna come?"

Chris squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at them tiredly. He then looked up at the digital chronograph on the wall, blinking in electric green 3:04 am. He groaned. "Why can't prowlers ever come at a decent hour?"

"Go back to sleep if you want," Wyatt said, moving out into the hall.

The comment elicited another unhappy moan from the younger brother before he wiggled free from his sleeping bag, eventually getting to his feet. He staggered out of the room after his older brother, gesturing for the other to lead the way toward whatever thing was responsible for indirectly awaking him from what had been a wonderful dream.

As the two crept their way down the stairs, they could make out a light on in the kitchen, the voices of the creepers becoming clearer the closer they inched toward their destination. Eventually, they were able to recognize one voice as belonging to their father.

"I can't believe I'm going to be a grandfather," Leo was saying. "How could this have happened?"

Chris pulled a face before leaning his forehead against the nearest wall. Mumbling into it, "I'm so screwed."

Wyatt ignored his brother for the moment, focusing on the conversation at hand.

"It was destiny," a strange voice answered. "Just like I said before. The problem is getting Piper to see it that way."

"I'm just glad you warned me about what was going on. If I would have walked into the manor earlier, I don't know if I would have survived. Piper saw this coming; she even said I was an idiot to let Casey go after Chris alone. She very well might blame me for this whole thing."

"Hard to say. Piper isn't the girl I remember anymore. All I know is this: You and I have to work together to keep the sisters united. The transition isn't going to be easy for any of them, and they have to be able to work as a team if we stand a chance of protecting the baby."

"I think it's Andy," Chris whispered.

"Who?"

"The detective."

"Again: who?"

"Never mind."

Andy appeared in the doorway, a grin on his face. "You boys don't have to eavesdrop. Come on in."

Following the former inspector into the kitchen, each boy took a seat at the table. Wyatt smiled at their father but kept a trained eye on the man he'd never met before, not quite sure what to make of the stranger. Chris, for his part, couldn't bring himself to look his father in the eye.

Leo spotted the down-trodden, ashamed look on his youngest son's face. No doubt the poor boy was terrified about both impending fatherhood and the reactions from those he cared about. The father's first instinct was to hug his son and tell him everything would be okay. Instead, he asked, "What are you boys doing up so late?"

"Heard a crash," Wyatt answered. "I thought it might have been a demon or something."

The former Elder's face turned slightly red. "I tripped over the rug."

The Twice Blessed turned to Chris, waiting for the typical sarcastic comment about like father-like son, or something similar, but his little brother was too busy staring at the kitchen table like a kicked puppy.

"First things first," Andy announced, cutting to the chase, "how did things seem to go with the girls?"

"Good I think," Wyatt answered. "They stayed up talking till a couple of hours ago; the Aunts have work in the morning or they might still have been at it. They seemed to be getting along really well. When I came down here for a glass of water I heard Prue say she'd help Aunt Phoebe figure out what demons attacked her tonight and have lunch with Aunt Paige sometime."

"Is Phoebe okay?" Leo asked, instantly concerned.

"Yeah. She's fine."

"Think they were connected to Zayel?" Andy questioned.

"I don't know. I don't think so. Doesn't seem like his style. Plus, Zayel seems pretty content just attacking Casey, and these guys seemed completely focused on Aunt Pheebs."

While Andy and Wyatt started discussing the demons responsible for the attack on the Middle Charmed One earlier, Leo couldn't take seeing his youngest son looking so timid and unsure.

"Chris?" Leo softly spoke. "Son, look at me."

The brunet witchlighter slowly lifted his eyes to his father's face.

"I'm not mad."

"Just disappointed?" the teen guessed, his eyes dipping again.

Leo reached across the table, grabbing hold of the boy's wrist. "Chris, you could never disappoint me. Not ever. I am more proud of you than you could possibly know."

"For knocking up my best friend?"

The father gave him a look. "Obviously not, Chris. However, despite making a really bad decision this time, you're a good person. You'll do the right thing. I have every faith in you, and I will _always_ be in your corner."

Chris swallowed a lump in his throat while rubbing at his eyes, trying to convince himself they were only watering since he was so tired.

"We'll figure this out, Chris. I promise. For now, though, you need to get back to bed. You've got school in the morning." He looked back over his shoulder at his oldest, "You too, Wyatt."

"I don't have class till 10:30."

"Wyatt."

"All right. All right. I'm going. Chris, coming?"

In an uncharacteristic move, the younger brother wrapped his father up in a hug. "Thanks, Dad."

"Just get some sleep, Son. We'll talk more tomorrow. By then, I'll hopefully have managed to get your mom calmed down some."

Chris nodded, his hair falling into his eyes.

Wyatt put his hand on his brother's back, slowly guiding him back up to their room.

After the two teenagers were out of earshot, Andy commented to his new found friend, "They seem like real good boys."

"To me, they'll always just be my little boys." A sad smile formed on Leo's lips, his blue eyes full of a parent's love and worry. "I only wish I could keep them from growing up so fast."

000

Today, Casey was having lunch outdoors. It had been Chris' idea to have lunch over in the small park a few blocks away from the school. The reason was simple: today they told their two best friends they were about to become Auntie Jessica and Uncle Kip. The school gossip mill could be pretty cruel, so the only way to tell both of their friends the news during lunch was to go to a more secluded area.

Packed lunch in hand, Casey spotted Jessica and Kip making out underneath one of the trees. She rolled her eyes before wrinkling her nose. "Ahem."

Kip held up a finger while still keeping his lips busy on his girl while his other hand freely felt her up, making a show of it for the benefit of their make-shift audience.

Jessica slapped his hand away. "Don't do that in front of my sister. What is the matter with you?"

The boyfriend dead-panned. "Uh, guy?"

The third wheel couldn't help but laugh lightly, shaking her head.

"So, not that I'm not _loving_ freezing my ass off," Kip started, "but could you remind me again why we couldn't just have lunch inside like everybody else?"

"Yeah, what is with all the mystery? Is someone dying? Damn it, Case, if you are dying I'm going to be really pissed at you."

"I'm not dying."

"Good. You're not allowed to."

Kip moved from his girlfriend's side as Chris came jogging up. The telepath and the telekinetic grabbed hands, bumping opposite shoulders as a traditional greeting. "So, Halliwell, what is with the crazy nature club meeting?"

"Case and I have something we need to tell you guys, and we don't want the buzzards getting wind of it before they have to."

Jessica's hands flew up to her mouth, her psychic nature allowing her to pick up on the subtle difference already capable of being sensed within her friend. "Oh my God. . ."

"C squared is reunited isn't it?" Kip gushed. "You know, you and Case were like the ultimate high school couple. You guys rocked together. All the times you were eyeing each other even when you weren't together and the raw heat and sexual tension always between– "

"–Kip, shut up," Chris cut him off. "We're not back together."

"I can't believe this," the taller girl murmured. "Phoebe's premonition. . ."

"Wait, you're not back together? Why the hell not?"

"Because I'm still in love with Molly, Kip."

"Oh. Right."

"Yeah, Jess, it's true," Casey affirmed.

Without warning the psychic cried, "You had sex with Chris again?" A beat. "I said that really loudly didn't I?"

"Yeah, but I'm pretty sure the people in New York didn't quite catch it," Chris remarked, shooting her a look. "What part about keeping this secret for as long as possible did you not catch?"

"Don't you take that tone with me, Chris Halliwell. Not when you did what it is you did to my best friend."

Kip pulled a face. "Huh?"

"Jess, you don't need to tell me what a lousy friend I am, or even how much I've ruined both our lives because the weight of it is with me every single second of every single day. You don't need the details, but I was grieving and drunk, and Casey was there for me. Things just got out of hand. I used sex with someone I love as a way to stop feeling like I was drowning for a minute, and now, I have to take responsibility for the consequences. And I will. I know how protective you are of Case, how you think of her as your sister, so I swear to you I'll do right by her, Jess. I will because I love her just as much as you do. So, I don't care what I have to do to make this better; I'll do it."

Casey smiled softly at the other young woman, "You know Chris is a good guy, Jess. He won't just abandon me in my time of need. And what happened wasn't just one person's fault. We both made the choice to let our hormones control us that night. So can you please skip hating Chris and being disappointed in me, and support us?"

Jessica, tears shining in her eyes, hugged the smaller woman. "Of course, Sweetie. I won't judge– promise. I love you. I just want you to be happy."

Kip looked over to Chris. "I'm so missing something, aren't I?"

"Casey's pregnant, Kip."

The telepath blinked. "Come again?"

"Casey is going to have my baby," Chris tried again.

"But you're not together?"

"No."

"But you had sex?"

"Right."

"But you're not a couple?"

"Just friends."

"Who have sex?"

"No, who are just friends."

"But, she's pregnant with your kid."

"Yeah. . ."

"So, you had sex?"

"Yes, Kip."

"So, you're friends who have sex."

"No. No more sex."

"_Ever_?"

Chris rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm getting a migraine."

Jessica rolled her eyes, addressing her boyfriend, "Kip, stop annoying Chris."

"I'm confused."

"Honey, I love you, but what's new?"

Casey decided to try to clear things up a bit. "I'm not in love with Chris anymore. We're not ever going to have sex again. It was a mistake the last time. We're just going to be two friends, having a baby and trying to do the best we can as parents. Simple as that."

"Why aren't you in love with Chris anymore?"

"Because my real feelings are for Wyatt."

Jessica's head snapped around. "What? Oh my God, why didn't you tell me? How could you not tell me? You know, I always thought Wyatt was better looking than Chris. He's got the body of a Greek God– all those muscles and the blonde hair and blue eyes. Not to mention, he is way too nice. I bet he's got some fun kinks in bed."

"Could we _not_ talk about my brother's muscles or sexual tendencies? Thanks."

"Ah, is little Chris jealous?" Jessica teased.

"A. Don't ever call me little Chris again. B. Talking about my brother's sex life does not make me jealous, it makes me want to vomit."

Kip ignoring the other two, had his attention on Casey. "So, you're dating Wyatt now?"

"Yup."

"But you're pregnant with Chris' baby?"

"Yeah. . ."

Kip turned to Jessica. "Does this seem like something on one of those day time talk shows to you?"

"Little bit."

Now all four were on the same page at last, they began discussing what the next ten months were bound to be like for Chris and Casey while pondering what effects it would have on Molly and Wyatt along with the rest of the tight-knit group. What they didn't know was someone was watching from the outskirts, listening to every word they said.

Valerie Stateton was going to make Casey's life a living hell.

000

Molly wrung her hands together nervously, pacing back and forth in front of the large oak tree in the park near the school. She'd chosen this spot as a meeting ground as it was one of the places she and Chris had always come during lunch when they wanted to be alone. One day, Chris had taken his pocket knife out and carved their initials into one of the trees.

_M.V. and C.H. – Love Eternal_

Now, she ran a hand lightly over the markings, smiling faintly at how very much in love they had been then. It was new and passionate but also naive. The two lovers who had passed their days in this park never could have imagined the situation they'd find themselves in so many months later.

Chris had slept with another girl. He'd cheated on her, and now, she would be forced to deal with the fact the other girl was having her boyfriend's child. She would never escape the reminder of the betrayal.

"I still believe that, you know."

Molly turned at the soft voice behind her. She almost smiled at the sight of Chris leaning up against one of the trees, staring reminiscently at the carving he'd done. However, as happy as part of her was to see him, she couldn't quite let herself express it.

"Love doesn't die," Chris quietly stated.

"If you believe that how come you didn't wait for me?" Molly questioned, hugging herself, not from cold but from hurt.

The young man's green eyes fell to the frosted grass. "You don't understand what it was like. I can't make you understand, either."

"Try," she softly pleaded. She moved a little closer to him, staring at his angst ridden expression. "I'm willing to listen now."

Chris licked his lips as his mind raced over where to start. "The Vetala possessed your body for awhile. He pretended to be you. Casey realized it wasn't you, and got Wyatt to help her prove it. Wy gave the Vetala this potion, and the spirit was forced to give up your body. I was standing right there, watching as this _thing_ came out of you, and I thought you were just possessed. I didn't understand what was going on at first. I was just cradling you, begging you to open your eyes for me. Then, I realized you weren't ever going to open your eyes. I was holding your body in my arms, and you were getting paler and colder by the moment. Something in me snapped then. It was like part of me just shut down."

"Then, you had to go to my funeral, and it was too much."

"Right."

"I need you to be honest with me, Chris. Do you still have feelings for Casey?"

Chris ducked his head, shoving his hands into his pockets. "It's complicated, Molly. She's my best friend, the first girl I was ever with, and now, she's pregnant with my child."

Molly bit her lip, trying to stop the tears in her hazel eyes from falling.

Jade eyes shot up to her face. "I'm not saying this to hurt you. You wanted the absolute truth. Truth is I do love her, and we're connected in a lot of different, really intimate ways. She's always going to be a big part of my life. So, I have feelings for her. How could I not? But, Molly, you're the one I want to be with. I'm _in_ love with you. Not her."

"I hate her, Chris," the whitelighter confessed. "After what happened, I can't help it."

"I can't stop you from hating her, but you have to understand, she's not going anywhere."

"I know."

"Can you deal with that?"

Molly shrugged helplessly. "I honestly don't know."

"That's fair. There's a lot I don't know right now either. One thing I do have to know: Do you hate me too?"

Hazel eyes shot up to his face, her lips pursing together as she shook her head. "No. In spite of how much my heart just _hurts_. . .it's still yours."

Chris came forward, moving in front of her. "So where do we go from here?"

"I don't trust you right now. I understand why you were with her. Grief makes people do things they normally wouldn't. Still, I just can't trust you."

"I would rather rip out my eyes than see you hurting, Molly. You have to know that."

He reached up to softly caress her face, but she pulled out of his grasp, making it absolutely clear she did not want him touching her just yet. Sharp daggers seemed to cut into his chest as he realized more acutely than ever how much damage had been done to their relationship.

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me," she offered, seeing his pained features. "I'm just not ready for your touch yet. It makes my mind go to bad places."

"Bad places?"

Her eyes dropped. "Like wondering if you touched her the same way."

Chris winced. After a moment, he cautiously asked, "Do you think we'll ever be okay again?"

Taking a deep breath, Molly answered, "I want us to be, but it's going to take time."

"I'll wait however long it takes, Molly. Go as slow as you need and give you as much space as you want. I just want to make this right."

"Me too."

tbc. . .


	35. A Mother's Love

CHAPTER 34

A Mother's Love

Prue glanced up from the spread of photos from her last shoot as the tinkle of orb lights filled her ears, the accompanying visual display of deep blue signaling the new arrival to be Molly. As the girl fully took form, the ex-Charmed One rose from her seat, anxious to get the details on the meeting between her nephew and her charge.

"How did it go?"

"I'm not sure," Molly answered with a soft shrug. "Everything is just so different between us now. I look at him and instead of seeing the amazing guy who swept me off my feet, I can't stop thinking about him being with _her_."

Prue gave a thin smile, putting her hand on the young woman's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Sweetie. I know how hard this is, but all the jealousy and hurt will go away eventually. You just have to keep fighting through it. That is. . .if you think Chris is worth it."

"I know he is. What we had before was as close to perfect as I could ever dream of. He's smart, adventurous, spontaneous, protective, and he could be just so amazingly gentle with me, Prue. It made me feel like a delicate lady instead of two ton Molly."

"Hey, we talked about this. I don't want to hear you talking like that about yourself. You are a beautiful girl. End of discussion."

Molly blushed, pushing her raven hair behind her ear. "Maybe so, but no one has ever made me feel as special as he does. I love him. I love the way his eyes change shades with his mood, and his sense of humor and how he acts all tough and moody with everyone else, but with me he's just raw and honest and sweet. I want him back, Prue."

"I'm sensing a 'but' in there somewhere."

"What if I can never see him like I used to? It seems so impossible because just looking at him hurts so much."

Prue pulled her charge into her arms as the girl let her emotions get the better of her again. "It will get easier, Molly. I promise. I'm just sorry you have to go through all of this."

"Prue?"

The older woman pulled back in order to look into her charge's face. "Yes?"

"Thank you for being so nice to me."

"You're a good person and a special young lady," Prue said. "There's no reason in the world for anyone to _not_ be nice to you."

Molly blushed again. "Still. . .thank you. It means a lot to have someone to talk to about all of this. Especially since I'm not allowed to see my mom. I miss her so much. We were all each other had."

Prue took the young girl's chin, raising her downcast face. "You've got me now. Always. I promise."

000

Casey closed the doors of the manor behind her as quietly as she could, hoping not to draw attention to the fact she was back. When there was no sign of angry parental figures, she hurried for the stairs, not even bothering to take off her jacket. She made it to the fourth step before a voice made her stop dead in her tracks.

"Freeze, Young Lady."

The teenager pulled a face before slowly turning around to face the wrath of the oldest Charmed One. She smiled faintly as she joked, "Can't. Powers aren't working on demand, remember?"

Piper was not amused. Her jaw was set and her chocolate brown eyes were flashing dangerously. She even had her arms folded over her chest, wrapping her fingers on the tops of her arms in the slow intimidating fashion only the oldest Charmed One could manage.

The young woman shrunk in on herself, her brown eyes dropping to the ground.

"Down here. Now," her friend's mother barked. "You and I need to have a little chat."

Casey swallowed her paralyzing fear before slowly moving back down the stairs to stand in front of the object of her terror. As Piper gestured for her to take a seat on the love seat in the conservatory, the young girl felt the palms of her hands start to get sweaty, her heart pounding in her ears.

Piper didn't sit next to her. Like a truly terrifying figure of authority she stood stone still in front of the teenager. "Well, let's hear it. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I– uh– I'm not sure I know what you mean."

An eyebrow arched on the Halliwell matriarch. "Don't play dumb with me. I know all about you and my son. Or sons, as it would seem. Though for now, we'll just stick with Chris."

"Ch-Chris?"

"Yes, how the two of you managed to make me a grandmother way before my time."

Casey's lips parted, her brain going numb as the words she feared to hear the other woman say were actually uttered. As the Charmed One kept staring at her, the other witch felt her own eyes prickling with tears as shame colored her cheeks. Finally, she managed to get out in a rush of words, "I didn't mean for it to happen. Please, Piper, you have to believe me."

The mother let out a breath, her face softening slightly as she saw just how truly frightened the young woman sitting before her really was. The poor thing was shaking like a leaf. Piper took pity on her, moving to sit next to the only daughter she had ever known. "I do believe you. I know you aren't the kind of girl to play games. You wouldn't do anything to hurt Chris. So, question becomes– what really did happen?"

"He was at P3, drinking. I went to make sure he was okay. We ended up both having a few drinks and talking and laughing. It started off so innocently. . ."

"Let's forget for the moment you two are waaay too young to be indulging in such activities and skip to the part where you tell me what happened to change things."

Casey looked down at her hands. "He came on to me. Said he needed me."

Piper closed her eyes, seeing exactly where the story was heading. "And you weren't thinking clearly enough to know better." She let out a breath. "Okay. So, where does my other son enter the picture?"

"Chris called me Molly."

"Ooh no."

Casey took a shuddered breath, hurt even thinking about that moment. "Anyway, I was a huge mess by the time I got back here. Wyatt found me and took care of me."

Piper smiled, the pride shining through her eyes. "He's a good man that boy of mine."

"An angel," the girl agreed.

"You were in love with my other son for quite a long time, though," the mother went on. "Are you sure your feelings for Wyatt are genuine and not just because Chris hurt you? Because the last thing I want is for you to be with Wyatt just because he's the safe choice. He deserves more than that. For that matter, so do you."

Casey raised her gaze to meet the Charmed One's directly. "I care for him because of who he is. Not because of what he's done for me or because he's safe. I always was attracted to Wyatt, but I couldn't see it because of my feelings for Chris. It's all changed now. But, I promise, Piper, I will not break Wyatt's heart."

"Oh? Does he happen to know the small detail about you carrying his little brother's baby?"

"He was the first person I told when I figured it out."

"How did he take it?"

"It hurt him. A lot. Over all, though, he accepts the situation as irrevocable and wants to be with me anyway."

Piper nodded, taking the information in. After a moment, she returned her attention to the real matter at hand. "All right. Back to the real problem. Do you and Chris have any idea what this child is going to mean for your futures? How very difficult your lives are going to become? A baby isn't just something you can hand off when you're tired of him. It's a twenty-four hour, seven days a week job lasting the rest of your lives. And I promise you, raising a child does not get easier. In fact, it gets harder and more complicated. Do you two have any idea what it even means to be parents? To have to put this little life ahead of everything and everyone else?"

"Even though the event causing this situation would seem to prove the opposite, Chris and I are not stupid. We get how huge this is. It's why we're both so scared. Not that he'd ever admit it. We're too young to be parents. We aren't financially, emotionally or in any other way ready. But, it's happened, and Chris and I are prepared to do whatever we have to do to make sure this baby is well cared for and knows how much he is loved. If nothing else, we can give him that."

"I'm glad to hear you two understand the gravity of the situation."

"Acutely."

"I'm still very disappointed in both of you. You're right: you two are highly intelligent, so it boggles the mind to think how two such smart kids could make such a monumentally stupid choice. That being said, you are still cared for very much, and Leo and I will be helping as much as we can in whatever ways we can."

"Really?"

"Of course," Piper responded with a twinkle in her eye, "anything for my future grandson."

"Thank you so much, Piper."

The doorbell rang.

Piper smiled softly at the younger woman, patting the girl's knee before rising from the love seat to see who it was at the door. As she turned the corner, she could make out the face of the visitor through the stained glass of the doors.

The visitor was Pamela Alvarez.

Taking a deep breath, the Charmed One moved to open the door, forcing a smile to her face as the new arrival scowled with her thin little eyebrows. "Pamela, hello. What brings you here?"

"I'm bringing home my daughter," the other woman answered tersely, pushing her way past Piper and into the manor. "Casandra Alvarez, get down here immediately."

"Pamela, I'm not sure her leaving is really for the best," Piper tried.

"The further away from you people she is, the better."

The witch narrowed her eyes, miming strangling her while the other woman's back was turned.

Casey mechanically entered the area, arms folded defensively over her chest as her eyes narrowed in on her mother. Her tone was uncharacteristically dull as she asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Pack your things. You're coming home."

Piper's eyes shot over to her houseguest, noticing the defiance in the youthful face. Sometimes, Casey and Chris were so alike it was scary. Right now was one of those moments.

"No," came the simple answer.

"No?" Her mother repeated in shock. "In case you've forgotten, you are _my_ daughter, and what I say goes."

"How could I possibly forget? Your word is the almighty law. You forbade me to go to my own father's funeral. You dragged me and _Papi_ from our friends and loved ones here so you could follow your dreams. Then, you make me leave my new life in Puerto Rico only to kick me out of your house the moment we get back to the States. As I recall, your exact words were 'If you plan on keeping magic in your life, get out and don't look back.' I did, and I don't. Why should that change now, Mother?"

Piper glared at the other woman in complete and burning hatred, but kept quiet, allowing Casey to fight her own battle for now.

The girl's mother smiled sardonically. "You always have made me the bad guy. Why should now be any different? The fact is I want you to be safe, and you're not. Especially not with these people."

"These people?" Piper cried, her hands twitching despite her best efforts to stay uninvolved. "These people as you call us happened to be very dear friends to Ricardo, or have you forgotten?"

"No," the blonde woman replied, her grey eyes sinking to the floor. "I haven't. My husband valued your friendship dearly." The grey circles rose to the Charmed One's face, thunder in the storm clouds. "It's probably part of the reason he was killed."

"Mother, enough. The Halliwells have done nothing but help me and _Papi_ since the first time we all met. They're doing so now, as a matter of fact. The demon who got _Papi_ is still out there, and now, he's targeting me. The only way for me to stay safe is to stay here at the manor with them."

The blonde woman shook her head. "No. There's another way, and it's fool proof."

"What are you talking about?"

"When you get home, I'm having an old friend of your father's strip your powers."

Casey's arms dropped to her sides, shock and horror marking her delicate features. "You can't be serious."

"Pamela, you can't ask her to do that. It would be erasing half of who she is."

"It would be saving her from the same fate as the rest of you freaks. That's what it would be doing. My daughter would be able to live out a long, normal life. Hopefully, as far away from all of you as possible."

The teen shook her head, helplessly. "No, you can't make me do that. I won't. My magic is my only link left to my father."

"You have your looks and language to link you to him. Both of which are far safer."

Casey set her jaw, her eyes flashing. "I will _not_ strip my powers, and there's nothing you can do to force me to. Keep me kicked out. I don't care. I belong at the manor anyway."

"Oh, really? Why is that? To pine away after that emo-witch friend of yours? He's a dangerous, unreliable freak– just like the others, and if I had my way, you'd never see him again."

Piper stepped forward. "I don't care what you say about me or my husband, but _no one_ calls _my_ son a freak. I want you to leave and not come back. You aren't welcome here."

"I'm not going anywhere without my daughter, Piper."

"Well, I'm not leaving the manor," Casey firmly stated. "And as for Chris? He's not going anywhere. He's going to always be a major part of my life. Especially considering I'm pregnant with his child."

Her mother's mouth fell open as she took a sharp inhale. "How could you? I always knew that boy was going to be trouble. I knew it the moment I laid eyes on him."

"He was two," Casey shot back. "How the hell could you know anything about what type of man he would become, Mother? Or do you just hate the fact he's a powerful witch? That our son will become a powerful witch just like his grandparents."

"Stop saying that," her mother barked. "You're not having this child."

"Excuse me?" Casey stuttered.

"That _thing_ needs to be taken care of immediately. You have a future to focus on. I didn't raise you to throw away your life like some common whore."

Piper's temper exploded as the witch stepped between the other mother and her daughter. "All right. I asked you once politely. Now, if you don't get the _hell_ out of my house, I swear to God, I will blow you up into a million tiny pieces."

"You wouldn't dare."

Piper raised her brows. "Oh really? Try me."

Pamela hesitated a moment before turning tail and fleeing from the manor. Tossing over her shoulder, "I have no daughter."

The Charmed One slammed the front door shut behind the unwanted visitor before turning a sympathetic eye on the teenager. Casey looked angry and firm, but as Piper had always known, the young lady had some of the same coping mechanisms as her own youngest boy, and right now, she was using anger as a way to cover up how deeply hurt she was.

"I don't know what my father ever saw in her."

Piper let out a breath, shoving her hands in her back pockets. "She wasn't always like this. There was a time we were all actually friends. Even had some nice dinners together. You were probably too young to remember, though. Once you started developing powers, she sort of lost it. I think she was terrified."

Casey shook her head, her jaw still clenched. "I don't really care what her issue is. What kind of a mother calls their own daughter a common whore?"

The glass in the doors suddenly imploded, causing both women to jump.

Piper turned large eyes at the youth. "Okay, that was different. Now, I know how everyone else feels. . ."

"Oh my god. . .did I do that?" Casey asked, staring at the windows. "I don't have that power. It couldn't have been me. It had to have been you, right?"

"Trust me, I would know if it were me," the other witch replied. "It was definitely not me."

"But how. . .?"

Piper smiled softly, her gaze drifting to the other woman's abdomen. "Your body changes when you get pregnant– emotions too. I'm guessing the little guy just starting to grow inside of you brought on a power advancement."

"Great. I can't even control the power I've had since I was little. Now, I have to worry about blowing everyone up too."

The Halliwell woman moved to hug her sons' friend. "It'll all be okay, Sweetie."

"I hope so," Casey murmured. She held the mother tight as she got choked up. "Thank you for sticking up for me today, Piper."

The Charmed One smiled lovingly as the hug ended. She brushed the girl's hair from her face. "Of course, I'm going to stick up for you, Casey. I've watched you grow up. You're practically one of my kids."

Casey tearily replied with a blush to her cheeks, "I always sort of thought of you as my mom."

Piper felt her own eyes prick with tears. She cleared her throat, trying to stop from crying. "As for your new power, I suggest a bubble bath, candles and relaxing music."

The younger woman grinned as she quirked a brow in question.

"Worked for me. . ."

000

Chris orbed into his brother's room, hoping to avoid any confrontation with his mother. Unfortunately, as he materialized it turned out his mother was just as sharp as ever and was currently sitting on the edge of Wyatt's bed waiting for him. She had her arms folded over her chest and a dark look on her face, which meant Chris was in for one of _those_ arguments. The ones he and his mother had been having ever since he reached puberty, and he'd become as his aunt Paige said "surly." These fights were usually long, arduous and rarely ended with him winning.

"You really think you can avoid me forever?" she asked, rising from her place on the bed to stand in front of him. "Bad idea, Chris. Very bad idea. You better sit down. We're going to be here a while."

"I'll stand," Chris replied, tossing his book bag on the floor and mimicking her intimidating stance with one of his own. "I know what this is about. Question is: Who told you? Dad?"

Piper's brows reached her hairline. "Your father _knows_? And he didn't tell me? I'll kill him."

"He only found out last night."

"Still, he doesn't know I know, so why the hell hasn't he told me? More importantly, how could you tell your father before you told me?"

"I didn't tell him."

"Then who did?"

"Andy Trudeau."

Piper's hand went to her heart. Her eyes grew misty at the thought of the man she'd grown up with and who had been like a brother to her for years. "Andy's alive?"

"Not really. He's a whitelighter. Prue didn't tell you?"

"She neglected to mention it," the woman almost growled.

Chris moved around his mother, heading for his desk just to put some space between the two of them. He casually remarked, "Sounds like you guys have some issues to work out. Better get on that."

"Nice try, Christopher."

The young man leaned back against his desk. "So, how did you find out?"

"I was piecing things together, and Prue filled in the blanks."

"Guess you two aren't going to be the only ones with issues then," Chris muttered.

"Chris, why didn't you come to me? Why did you have to run off and drown your sorrows in a bottle? And what the hell were you thinking seducing Casey, knowing full well how she felt for you? And for god's sake, how many times have I said while I couldn't stop you boys from having sex, I expect you to be smart about it. One little condom and neither of you would be in this mess. You're lucky not to have some sort of STD or something. Tell me you've always been safe in the past."

"I've only ever been with two people, Mom. Case and Molly. And the only time it was unprotected was last Sunday. It just happened really fast, and neither of us were thinking clearly. I know it's not an excuse."

"You're damn right it's not. You're not old enough to be drinking, Christopher. You had no business anywhere near a bottle of alcohol, especially in my club. I could lose my liquor license if someone found out."

"Yeah, because I'm so going to be shouting about it from the rooftops. Glad you still have your priorities straight."

Piper narrowed her eyes. "Don't be smart with me, Young Man. Not today. Today, I am so furious and so heartbroken about what you've done, I have no patience for your attitude. Zero. Zip. Zilch. You made a huge mistake, and now, you'll be paying for it the rest of your life. Not to mention the effect on Casey's. It'll be a battle for her to even finish high school. It's already effecting her powers."

"Her powers? As in plural?"

"She blew up the glass in the doors."

"Blew up?" Chris repeated, eyebrows high.

Piper nodded. "Mhmm. Seems her powers are progressing the same way mine did. Hers were probably triggered by the changes she's going through."

"But it hasn't even been a week. . ."

"Yeah, so just think about how much more will change the further along she gets. We're talking nausea, constant heartburn, weird cravings, drastic hormone shifts. . .she's going to have a rough ten months ahead of her."

Chris' jade eyes fell to the floor. "I hadn't really thought about how much worse it is for her right now. I mean, I knew, but I was so fixated on what was going to happen after the baby was born I forgot about the ten months leading up to it."

"She needs you, Chris. You were man enough to get her into trouble; I expect you to be man enough to help her through it. Every step of the way. I don't know what is going on with you and Molly right now, but Casey and the baby have to be your number one priority. If you can do that and still make things work with Molly– fantastic. But, if not. . ."

Chris closed his eyes. "I have to let her go."

"Hopefully, it won't come to that."

The young man opened his eyes, looking up into his mother's only slightly softened face. "Mom, I know you're royally pissed at me and disappointed, but I need you to stop looking at me like I'm some horn-ball creep who knocked up the first girl to come along. I love Case, and I will do everything I can to make this easier for her, but in order to do that, I need your support, okay? I need my mom."

Piper's heart melted into a puddle, despite the fact she knew he was purposefully using his perfected puppy dog eyes on her. "Of course, I will support you. You're my son. A mother's love doesn't end just because you mess up. No matter what you do, how old you get, how much taller than me you continue to grow,-- Chris, you are my baby boy, and I will always be there for you."

Chris felt his emotions starting to overcome him. His Adam's apple quivered as he confessed, "I'm scared, Mom. Really really scared."

He was wrapped in his mother's arm before he could even blink. Instead of fussing about how he was too old for hugs from his mommy, or making some remark about how embarrassing it was, he held her tighter, burying his face in her long, silky brown hair much like he had when he was a little boy.

Piper rubbed his back lightly as she soothingly said, "It'll be okay, Peanut. I promise."

tbc. . .

Please review-- my muse is feeling a little starved. Let me know if something's not working for you. Maybe I can change it :)


	36. It's a Hard Knock Life

Thanks so much for all the great comments! I'm feeling good about this fic again :) So, next chapter!

CHAPTER 35

It's a Hard Knock Life

Zayel wasn't accustomed to being summoned. In fact the last time it had happened, the person responsible had been engulfed in a fiery death as Zayel's dagger pierced the other demon's heart. So, when he found himself pulled unceremoniously from his chambers after thoroughly beating his minion again for allowing the witch to escape, he was fully in the mood to kill whoever had interrupted his punishment session. However, once he fell to the ground in his new location, he realized murdering the perpetrators was out of the question.

The Triad in all their dark glory were surrounding him, their spiritual forms still as intimidating as their corporeal. Having been a youth during their last resurrection, Zayel easily recognized the incarnations of the powerful three were entirely new. One tall, powerful, and stoic in his majestic dark skin. One short and broad with few hairs on his head, his pale skin iridescent in the dim lighting. The third, for the first time in nearly a hundred cycles as far as Zayel could recall, was a woman.

It was she who spoke first. "You're the one they call Zayel. We have heard much about you, Brother."

"Demons were gathered to discuss the fate of a witch under Charmed protection," the short man went on. "You called them together?"

"Yes, your excellencies," he bowed. "I have seen the future. She is the one now carrying the pure hearted witch, the one who will have the knowledge to topple the balance of power for centuries."

"We are aware," the regal third member replied, almost offended at the explanation. "We see glimpses of what's to come. What you seek to accomplish is impossible."

Zayel burned with indignation. "I beg to differ your High One. I had the witch in my grasp not two nights past."

"Yet, she is not with you now," the woman smirked. "Your pride will get you vanquished, Zayel. Unless you curb it to our will instead of your own quest for glory."

"What is your will? If I may be so bold?"

"You seek to kill the wrong woman," she answered coyly. "The witch you hunt already conceived the child. There is no stopping the event now. There never was– the boy was meant to exist. What's more, as the child grows, so too will the witch's power. He feeds her his, knowing even from the womb the danger he puts her in. The further along she gets, the more powerful she will become."

"So would not it be best to strike her down now?" Zayel countered, frustrated.

The dark member of the council narrowed his eyes at whom he considered a lowly demon. "You have a one track mind. We offer you a new mission. One with every possible chance for success."

"I have created a Vetala who still remains in my company– a miscarriage would be simple."

The three members paused a moment, their eyes meeting one another in silent deliberation. At last the short man answered, "Perhaps. Perhaps not. It is an option we will keep in mind. For now, if you wish to live, you will do as we bid. We have known of the coming of this child for a year. However, we know of another important person in the child's life who is far more vulnerable."

"Who?"

"The child's whitelighter," the dark skinned leader answered. "We had a bounty on her head last year, but the Twice Blessed managed to intimidate the players. If you have the courage, we have the way."

"Go on."

"She is cut off from the Halliwells. Still nursing her poor broken heart," the woman supplied. "Only protected by two other pacifists. I feel certain a demon of your genius can manage to take out three pathetic whitelighters."

"Why is the whitelighter so important? Why not focus on the mother?"

The female's eyes went white, her head tilting back. Her voice was numb as she uttered: "An error in judgment. Mother and unborn child both in peril. Only the healing hands of the child's whitelighter may save the early arrival."

Zayel grinned maliciously. "Then it is done."

000

Prue had agreed to meet Phoebe at her little sister's home in one of the suburbs of the city. If she was being honest with herself, the former witch was more nervous than she'd been in years. It was one thing seeing her sisters again and talking about how much they'd missed one another, it was quite another trying to find a way to fit each other back in the new lives each had built for themselves.

Landing and parking her 2019 Chevy Soarer on the curb by Phoebe's house, Prue felt her stomach tighten as her heart started to beat faster. She was about to enter into her little sister's new life, about to see everything Phoebe had accomplished and created while the oldest sister had stayed almost entirely the same for the last two decades– secure in her routine. She'd seen interviews of the famous Ask Phoebe, but even knowing all the facts– great husband, three girls, best selling book– Prue only really knew the little sister she was about to spend the day with was a stranger to her.

Taking a deep breath, she removed the ignition lighter, stowing it away in her purse as she exited the vehicle and marched up to the bright white door of the cottage style home. Keeping on her classic I'm-Prue-Halliwell-Unafraid/Independent/Self-assured-face-of- total- fakeness, she rang the bell.

A moment later the door was answered by a girl of about thirteen. She looked so much like Phoebe, for a moment, Prue felt her breath catch. The child had the same long brown hair and deep doe eyes as her mother. The young teen smiled unsurely, "Hi. Are you Aunt Prue?"

Aunt Prue. She loved the sound of that. The smile on her face was one hundred percent genuine as she answered, "I am. You must be Melinda. Wow, you are just stunning."

The young girl lit up. "Really?"

"Of course. Every Halliwell woman is," she added with a wink.

Melinda, face still glowing at the praise, gestured for her Aunt to come in. She then turned to call up the stairs, "Mom, Aunt Prue is here. Dad, we're going to be late for school."

A second later a tall, dark and quite handsome man came rushing from the kitchen, one little girl on his back and the other older one holding his hand. He squatted, allowing the youngest of the three to get down. He then held out a hand to the guest. "Hi, Prue. I'm Coop. These little princesses are Prue," he pointed to the second oldest of the three then the smallest, "and Patty."

"Your name is Prue too?" the middle child questioned in awe, her features looking much more like her father.

"Sure is. It's nice to meet you." She then turned to the youngest, who she guessed to be only about seven. "And Patty. I like your dress."

The little girl in a fuzzy pink dress lined in fake white fur twirled to show it off. "Auntie Piper and Uncle Leo got it for me for my birthday."

"It's really pretty."

Coop gave Prue a dazzling smile. "It's an honor. Really. I've heard so much about you. So have the girls. We were all super excited to meet you."

"Dad, school," Melinda reminded, tapping her foot impatiently.

The Cupid rolled his eyes at his daughter's new found attitude. He wasn't sure how it had happened, but her cousin Chris was definitely rubbing off on her. He gave an apologetic look to his newly acquainted sister-in-law. "I'm so sorry to cut this short, but education beckons."

"Of course."

The three young girls shouted chorus' of "Bye, Aunt Prue" as they headed out the door, followed by their father who was desperately trying to grab everything he needed for them off the small side table before finally shooting Prue one last encouraging look and disappearing out the front door.

"Prue," Phoebe greeted from the top of the stairs. "I take it I missed the girls and Coop?"

"Just left."

"Shoot. I hate not saying goodbye. I was on the phone with Piper. Apparently, the same demons who attacked me yesterday, attacked her this morning. She blew them up, but since Wyatt vanquished the last set, it must mean they either can reform or they're some large group or maybe unable to be vanquished till you get their leader– like the Kazi demons."

"Haven't you found anything in the Book yet?"

Phoebe shook her head. "Nada. It seems our ancestors haven't come across them before."

"So, in other words, we have no clue who they are and therefore, no idea what they want or how to permanently vanquish them."

"That pretty much sums it up."

Prue smiled at the all too familiar banter. It seemed some things would never change at least. She folded her arms over her chest, trying to think. "I could check with the Elders– see what they know. Chances are, as usual, they won't know a thing."

"We could go to the magic school and look through their books," Phoebe suggested. "If we're going to find out what these guys are, the best chance is in the library."

"Ah, Pheebs, I never thought I'd actually hear you say you wanted to go to a library," the older sister teased.

Phoebe scrunched up her face. "Ha, ha, Prue. Very funny. For your information, I ended up being really good at the whole school thing. Got my masters and everything."

Prue smiled softly, her blue-grey eyes full of pride. "I know. I read it somewhere. You've always been smart enough to do whatever you wanted to, Phoebe. I just always worried you lacked the drive. You have no idea how proud I am of you for proving me wrong."

"Do my ears deceive me? Did _the_ Prue Halliwell just admit she was wrong about something?"

The whitelighter laughed, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Phoebe. I did. I also said I'm proud of you. You've created one heck of a life for yourself. Great husband, three amazing little girls, the perfect career. . ."

"You have no idea how much I've wondered over the years if I was making you proud, Prue. I was just starting to get my life back on track when you were taken from us, and I just wished you could have seen me really change and become more like my idol. . .you."

Prue ducked her head, trying to hide how much the words really affected her. Clearing her throat she suggested, "We should get to the magic school and find out what those demons are before they attack again. I'll orb us."

The younger sister noticed the reserved nature of the other, her brow creasing as she remembered how long it had taken Prue to let she and Piper into her heart before. Not until they were witches and Barbas attacked would she even say she loved them. It didn't take her being an empath to feel the fear of rejection and of being hurt residing in her big sister again.

She would let it go for now. The reunion was difficult for everyone in different ways. For Phoebe, it was feeling like the screw-up she used to be, always considered immature and selfish. She had to fight to remember she was a grown woman now, and her life was nothing like it had been then. So, if it took Prue time to open up again, so be it. It would happen eventually.

Phoebe moved down the stairs, offering her hand to Prue. "Let's go."

The whitelighter took her sister's hand, transporting them into the great hall of the magic school where they took the short walk required to get to the library. Prue had only been to magic school once before, summoned there by a young charge she used to have. She'd been in shock when she found out it existed. She'd also been upset an institution such as this hadn't been revealed to she and her sisters earlier; it would have helped them become better witches a lot faster.

An hour and twenty-odd books later, Prue found what they were looking for. She brought the old text back to the table her sister was working at, and plopped it down next to her. She then hit the page with the back of her hand. "Sonshi. They're related to Grimlocks. Except instead of stealing an innocent child's vision, they steal people's emotions. Then they feed on the person's physical form."

"Eew," Phoebe shuddered. "Cannibalistic demons. Or would it be considered cannibalism since they're not human?"

Prue went on, "Anyway. . .It says here they have no feelings in order to better absorb those of others. Absorbing human emotions actually manages to make them stronger somehow. Plus, if a Sonshi manages to steal all the emotions from their victim, they'll make a person so numb it will actually override the person's natural instinct of self-preservation. This way they can consume a still living being."

"Okay, once again I'm going to have to say eeeew."

"Agreed. But, there is good news. They're vanquished the same way Grimlocks are: Potion made from Shisandra Root."

"Does it say anything about how to find them?"

Prue skimmed the rest of the page. "No."

"Good thing I've gotten better at this then," Phoebe replied, putting her hand on the image of the demons provided in the book and closing her eyes.

After a minute or so, the psychic gasped, her face tightening in the way it always did when she had a vision. When it had passed, she opened her eyes. "Golden gate park. Do you remember the spot David was taken?"

"Acutely."

"There's an alcove near there. They seem to be camped out there waiting for their next meal."

"Then why go all the way to your apartment and risk taking on a Charmed One? People go through that park all day long. It's like a living buffet."

Phoebe let out a breath. "Feeding on me would have been like dining on a buffet with half the work. I'm an empath now, Prue. I have a never ending supply of emotions and no active power to use against them. It probably would have made them invincible."

"Yeah, well, now they'll never get the chance. We'll get the Root, make the potion and then go kick some demonic butt."

"I've missed hearing you say that."

"I've missed saying it."

Two hours later the women, prepared potion in hand, materialized in the alcove of the park. The three Sonshi who had attacked Phoebe the day before, and who had more than likely been the same ones to attack Piper this morning, were peering through the brush, keeping a look out for their next victim.

At the sound of the orb lights, the three demons turned toward the sound, eyeing the newcomers like children might view a candy store. They moved forward, their eyes dull as they stared numbly at Phoebe, who lowered the jar of vanquishing potion she had been holding.

"Phoebe?" Prue questioned. "Snap out of it."

The Charmed One shook her head, twisting off the lid of the jar and hurling a splash of the contents at the closest Sonshi. The demon began to burn like film under too hot a light, scorching into a flame before burning to nothing but ashes.

Meanwhile, Prue flipped one attacker onto his back, digging her heel into his throat while pouring her own potion into his gaping mouth. Her demon didn't even scream as his face started to melt away, his body lighting on fire until it too turned to ash.

The third demon started to run, but Prue orbed in front of him, swinging out her leg and knocking him to the ground. As the Sonshi fell, Phoebe poured the rest of her potion onto his chest, watching as he followed the same fate as his brothers.

"Nice job," Prue complimented.

"You too. Wow, it's weird isn't it?"

"What is?"

"Vanquishing evil together again."

Prue smiled faintly. "Yes, it is. Things aren't quite like they used to be."

"Are you kidding?" Phoebe replied. "We kicked demonic ass then, and we still do. Just a little easier these days than it was back then. More knowledge, more skills, more powers. Fewer demons on a week to week basis."

The older sister laughed softly. "I can imagine. Not many are stupid enough to challenge the Charmed Ones." Her face fell slightly, the fact hitting home yet again– she wasn't Charmed anymore.

"Prue, Sweetie, what's wrong?"

The whitelighter debated not saying anything. In the old days, she wouldn't have. She would have carried her burden alone. She'd lost a lot doing so. So, despite her gut telling her to keep to herself, she answered, "It's hard. Not being able to fight evil like I used to– with you guys."

"But you can again."

"My telekinesis is a lot weaker now, Pheebs. It's not Charmed magic, just regular whitelighter magic. I doubt I could throw a demon anymore."

Phoebe put her hand on her sister's arm. "You still have powers, Prue. And today proved you can still vanquish demons with the best of 'em. Just because you're not technically Charmed anymore doesn't mean you're any less of a threat to demons or any less of a help to us. Besides, even if you had no powers– we still have the chance to be a family again. Isn't that much more important anyway?"

Prue narrowed her eyes at her sister, a grin playing on her lips. "When did you get to be so wise, huh?"

"Comes from playing the role of the middle child for Piper and Paige. I think at the beginning, they fought more often than you and I ever did."

"Wow, impressive."

"Mmmhm. Speaking of Paige, don't you have lunch plans with her today?"

"Yeah, we're meeting at one o'clock at Piper's restaurant."

"Nervous?"

"No. Don't be silly, of course not."

Phoebe arched a brow. "Do you really want to lie to the empath?"

Prue glared at her. "Ooh, that is so not fair. Fine, a little. Happy?"

"Ecstatic. But, for the record, you have nothing to be worried about. Paige has really grown up too, and I think you guys are going to get along just fine. Just keep it simple. Get to know her and let her get to know you."

"Right. Simple," Prue muttered.

000

As Chris parked his truck in the back lot of the High School, he noticed Casey had been uncharacteristically quiet through the ride. Pulling the keys from the ignition, he put a hand on her arm, stopping her from getting out of the vehicle.

She turned to look at him questioningly.

"Just hold on. You seemed a little...off. Something up?"

"I have a bad feeling."

"Bad feeling?"

"Yeah. I don't know why. I just really don't want to walk through those doors today for whatever reason." Her brown eyes ducked below her sweeping bangs. "And I sort of need to ask you something, but don't know how."

"Case, think of it this way: What could you possibly say that would be worse than telling me you're pregnant?"

The young woman let out a short laugh. "Okay, true. It's kind of stupid. I just. . .I made an appointment last night to meet with a doctor next Tuesday, and I was sort of hoping you'd come with me."

"Of course, I will. Case, I told you before I will be with you every step of the way. Going to your doctor's appointments is a non-question. Why were you so worried about asking me that?"

She pushed her bangs back behind her ear. "It will make it all real, hearing it from the doctor's mouth and getting all those brochures about family planning while the doctor looks on in that condescending-higher-than-thou way they always seem to have. He'll start telling me about the pre-natal vitamins I'll need--plus who knows what other stuff-- and about how much it's going to cost and if I have any plan on how I'm going to pay for all of it. I don't know; it's not something I want to do, so I figured you wouldn't want to either."

Chris reached out to her, putting a hand on her cheek. "Casey, look at me. I'm going to make this as clear as I possibly can. I will do whatever I need to do to make this any degree easier for you. Whether it's holding back your hair as you puke from morning sickness, running out in the middle of the night for whatever disgusting food concoction you're craving, or just going to the doctor's appointments with you. We're in this together. So, don't be afraid to ask me for something. Just ask. If it's in my power to do it, I will."

She smiled brightly at him, her eyes glistening a little. She rolled them, wiping the moisture from them. "God, I don't know what's wrong with me. Last few days, I seem to get weepy at the drop of a hat."

"I'm going to go for hormone changes for a hundred, Bob."

She lightly whacked his arm. "Not funny. I don't do the crying thing. This sucks."

"Sorry."

"For what?"

Chris gestured to her abdomen. "You know. . .knocking you up."

"Oh good grief," she muttered, throwing open the car door and hopping down, pulling her book bag behind her. As she slammed the door, "You're not going to apologize every time something about this sucks are you?"

Chris came around the truck to walk next to her up to the building. "Probably."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're going to treat me like glass aren't you?"

"Probably."

"You realize I will hurt you, right?"

"Probably," he answered with a grin.

She rolled her eyes again, but linked arms with him, lying her head on his shoulder until they reached the back doors of the building. Once they got inside, she lifted her head, releasing him as she noticed almost every eye at one point turn in their direction.

The young woman slid a look to her friend, whispering, "I'm not just imagining everyone looking at us, right?"

"No. We're definitely getting stared at."

"Why?"

"I have no idea."

"Okay. . .weird."

As Casey turned to head up the first staircase to get to her locker on the second floor, she noticed Chris come up with her. She paused half-way up the staircase. "Did you forget your locker is on the other side of the building?"

"I have the book I need in my bag. Figured I'd walk you to class."

"Not that I mind, but why?"

Chris shot her a mischievous look. "Don't want the glass to break."

"I am so tempted to push you down the stairs for that one."

The two laughed, finishing the flight of stairs and turning the corner to the right to reach Casey's locker. On the way they noticed more staring in their direction. As a group of girls actually started giggling, their eyes focused on the magical duo, Casey turned to Chris to ask worriedly, "They couldn't know, could they?"

"Impossible," Chris answered. "It's probably a rumor about us dating again or something. Maybe they think I've moved on from Molly too quickly, and it's the latest school scandal. Who the hell knows what goes through their minds?"

Asking quietly, "I never got a chance to ask you yesterday– how are things with you guys?"

Chris shoved his hands into his pockets. "The words 'uphill struggle' come to mind. She wouldn't let me touch her, Case."

His friend turned to look at him, her gaze sympathetic. "Must have hurt. I'm sorry."

"You going to apologize every time something with me and her sucks?"

"Probably," she answered with a grin.

"Funny."

"I try."

Chris ran a hand through his hair. "She may still love me, but she definitely doesn't like me at the moment. I figure I should warn you– she all out hates you."

"Shocking," Casey answered. "Honestly can't blame the poor girl, though. I'm expecting to get sucker punched the next time I see her. Won't even try to stop her."

"She better not," Chris sharply stated. "I don't care how much she hates you. She has to be civil to you."

"Why?"

Chris raised his eyebrows pointedly.

"Oh. Right."

The two finally reached the end of the hall, stopping in front of Casey's locker. An odd noise was coming from within. A murmured sound, definitely not human, yet it seemed like some word was being said, though neither Chris nor Casey could figure out exactly what it was.

Chris was the one to move forward, punching in the numerical code, which he easily remember since Casey had been assigned the same locker she'd had before the move. He then yanked open the door, his mouth falling open at what was inside.

An old fashioned doll, hanging on the coat hooks by a pull string, was blinking its plastic eyes while repeatedly crying out, "Ma-ma. Ma-ma. Ma-ma."

Pinned onto the baby doll's little pink dress was a piece of paper with an exceptionally crude drawing on it. The words 'this is what comes from always spreading your legs' were scrawled above the image.

Chris was just about to reach into the locker and rip the thing down when the head of the doll suddenly exploded and he was forced to drop in order to avoid plastic shrapnel. When he looked up, the entire hall was frozen.

His gaze sought out his friend's, finding it void of expression. Her normally expressive eyes were dull, fixated on nothing. Meanwhile, two tears raced down her cheeks.

The witchlighter got to his feet and took her by the shoulders. "Case, I know you're upset, but you've got to unfreeze them, okay? If someone comes up those stairs, we're going to be in huge trouble."

She flicked out her hands, the scene taking action once more. Casey then turned to Chris, wiping roughly at the escaped tears. She sardonically said, "Least that power works now."

The young woman shook her head, hurt and rage combined in her every feature. "Who would do something this disgusting? And who the hell would even know?"

"Kip and Jess are the only ones we told. Someone must have heard us."

"But who?"

Chris let out a breath, "Someone who knew the combo to your locker."

The bell for class rang.

"Great," Casey muttered. "I can't go to class like this. I could end up blowing it up the way I feel right now."

"Then just wait. Being tardy never killed anyone. Losing control of your emotions while dealing with a new power just might. Now, think, Case, who knows your locker code?"

She ran a hand through her hair as she tried to think. "I don't know. You, Jess, Kip– though he probably only remembered for about five seconds. Wyatt used to. Sam, who couldn't have done it as he's currently without apposable thumbs."

"Okay, there had to be someone else who knew your combo, someone who hates you so much they'd tell the entire student body our secret and put that garbage in your locker."

Casey glanced over at the still in-one-piece note. She closed her eyes, turning away from the image and the hurtful words. "I don't know. I've never really gotten into it with anyone. Except for that time when. . ." Her eyes snapped open. "Oh my god."

"What?"

"I forgot she knew my combination. Sam was trying to surprise me, so he gave her my code, so she could sneak my birthday present inside while he was with me. She's been in love with Sam for a long time– probably thinks I'm the reason he only slept with her but never dated her."

Chris's face dawned with comprehension. "Valerie Stateton."

Casey stared at the hateful note, fire burning in her gaze. "Valerie Stateton."

tbc. . .


	37. Cold As Ice

I apologize for the long wait. The demon known as full-time job has sunk its permanent and free-time zapping claws in me at last, and I haven't quite worked out my daily routine yet. Hopefully it won't take this long next time.

CHAPTER 37

Cold As Ice

After all these years, Prue finally was able to see her little sister's dream as reality. Standing outside the restaurant, Charmed, the oldest of the Halliwell women could only stare at the sign hanging above the brick building and smile. Piper had done it. She'd actually achieved the thing she wanted most for her career– she owned her own restaurant. Prue couldn't have been more proud of her.

"Hey."

Prue turned at the sound of the voice, forcing a smile to her lips as she spotted her newly acquired sibling approaching. The younger woman was wearing a sleek black business suit with a yellow blouse underneath and bright red high heels. It wasn't the type of outfit Prue would have worn.

Another difference between the two of them. Prue had been keeping tabs on all of them since she'd met her half-sister. Brown eyes instead of Blue. Orbing objects with her mind instead of pure telekinesis. A wild spontaneous nature vs Prue's calculated and reserved one. Paige and Prue were very different people, and for some reason, the more differences they had, the lower the level of Prue's jealousy became.

After all, if they were different, Paige couldn't replace her.

"Sorry I'm late," Paige was saying. "You would literally not believe the day I've had. Henry Jr. thought it would be fun to conjure Darth Vader from the movie this morning. My poor husband almost got decapitated by a lightsaber before I could come up with a spell to undo it. Then, Perse got in a fight with one of the boys at school because he called her a girl, and I had to go pick her up from school and have this long talk with the principle, who was such a pig. He kept staring at my breasts and calling me Sweetheart. I swear, guys like him make me want to orb their testicles off."

Prue raised her brows. "Really?"

Paige flushed in embarrassment as she realized what had just come out of her mouth. "Did I just say that out loud?"

"Yeah. You did."

"Did I mention how sometimes words just come out of my mouth before my brain can censure them?"

"Yeah, you did mention something to that affect. It's okay, really. I'm just not used to people speaking so. . .openly. Especially about," she lowered her voice, "magic."

Paige glanced around, a little confused. "No one's anywhere near us."

"Still, I've had one too many experiences with getting outed to not be paranoid about it. After all, it's because of that I. . ." she trailed off, her eyes lowering.

"Died?" Paige supplied.

Prue couldn't help but smile at the other woman's tone. "Yeah. Innyway, we should probably get inside. We have reservations for one o'clock, and knowing Piper, the place is probably freakishly on schedule."

"Yup that's Piper– freakishly on schedule," Paige agreed.

The younger of the two headed to the door first, holding it open for the other. She then followed the whitelighter inside, immediately heading over to the manager, who was standing with the hostess. "Rex, is our table ready?"

Rex, a thirty-something blonde man with squinty blue eyes, turned toward the Charmed One, wrapping her up in a quick embrace, kissing both her cheeks before letting go of her. "Well, if it isn't Piper's sister, Paige. It's so good to see you, Darling. It's been ages. You look fabulous."

"Thanks. Our table?"

Rex gestured over to the back corner, furthest from the kitchen. It was probably the most private seat in the entire place and had become a sort of family favorite for that very reason. "Come, come. Sit. I'll have Sam get you your menus."

As the man scurried away, Prue barely registered his departure or the fact she was now sitting. Her mind was racing over the scene she'd just witnessed. The manager knew Paige personally, which under normal circumstances wouldn't have bothered the photographer in the least. However, it was the manner of address that had stung. Piper's sister. Paige was Piper's sister, but Prue didn't even get acknowledged. She was a non-person in her own sister's restaurant.

It made her think back to all the times at P3 when a different Rex had managed the club, and had known Prue by name, had called Prue Piper's sister. After all, P3 had been named for them– Prue, Piper, Phoebe. She wondered if after her death Piper had changed the third P to a Paige. It certainly felt that way.

"Prue?"

The older woman looked up to find Paige clearly concerned. Again, she forced a smile. "Sorry. This is just kind of surreal. Piper's only wanted her own restaurant forever, and now, it's here. I'm sitting in her dream come true."

"Yeah, it's pretty awesome," the witchlighter agreed. "But, that's Piper for ya. The woman always gets what she wants."

Prue wanted to fiercely reply how she knew Piper; she didn't need anyone telling her how Piper was. It was _her_ sister too after all. She'd known Piper even longer than Paige. Granted her knowledge wasn't as recent, but it was still _her_ sister. No one knew Piper like Prue. They'd been the closest of the three siblings, so there was no way Paige knew more about Piper. Just no way.

Instead of voicing the acerbic thoughts aloud, the older woman focused on the newly arrived waitress– a tiny pixie of a brunette. The waitress had greeted them, and mentioned her name was. . .well, Prue couldn't really remember. Something with an 'S'. Susie, Sharon, Sarah. . .

"Hey, Sam," Paige greeted.

Sam. Right. Close enough.

Sam smiled widely. "Hey, Paige. It's so nice seeing you again. Did you know Casey is back in town? I actually got to work with both her and Chris not too long ago. It was like old times. The three Muskateers of the restaurant back together again."

"Yeah, I knew."

"Awful what happened to poor Molly, though. Chris hasn't really said anything to me about it, which is weird. I hope he's talking to Casey. He's okay, isn't he?"

It was Paige's turn to force a fake smile. "Sure. He's– ah– peachy. Well, not peachy exactly. After all, his girlfriend is dead." To herself, "sort of..." She noticed Sam frowning unsurely and finished by saying, "He's dealing."

"Good. I saw he's not on again till this weekend, so if you see him before I do, could you tell him if he needs anything to give me a call?"

"Of course. I know what good friends you guys are."

Prue cut in, "Do you have earl gray tea?"

Sam blinked, taken back by the sharp change in subject. She couldn't help but slide a look to Paige, whose eyebrows were up in similar surprise. The waitress returned her focus to the black haired woman. "I believe so. . ."

"Great. I'll have that to drink. Thanks."

Sam nodded before turning to Paige."Okay, you going to have your usual drink?"

"Yup."

"Okay, then I'll just go get those and give you two some time to look over the menus."

Paige had a usual at the restaurant. Knew every single staff member here. Prue knew no one. She hadn't been able to come here before, fearful of running into her sisters. Now, because of their long separation, she wasn't really part of their world anymore. Paige was.

"You know, the tortellini is super good here," Paige recommended, trying to break the awkward tension suddenly prevalent at the table.

Prue kept her gaze in her menu. "I think I'll have the chicken parmigiana."

"That's good too," the younger sister murmured.

The witchlighter wasn't blind. She could tell Prue was upset about something. From the moment Paige had met with her outside, it was like her older sister would rather be anywhere else. It didn't make sense. Last time they were together they'd gotten along just fine. What had changed?

"Did I do something wrong?"

Prue was given a break from answering as Sam reappeared with a raspberry lemonade for Paige and a small pot of tea for Prue. The waitress smiled politely at the unfamiliar woman. "Are you guys ready to order?"

"She'll have the tortellini and I'll have the chicken parmigiana."

"Okay, anything else at all for you?"

"No, we're good," Prue answered, handing the girl the menus. "Thanks."

Sam shot another look to Paige before walking back into the kitchen.

"Why are you being so rude?" the younger woman asked, folding her arms over her chest. "She's a good kid. You shouldn't talk to her like that."

"I didn't mean to be rude. I just. . ." Prue let out a breath, looking down at the shiny black table top. "I took out my frustration out on her. And you're right. It wasn't fair. I'll apologize when she comes back."

Paige leaned back in her chair raising a brow in question. "Okay, then, care to share? You have been a total ice queen since I met you outside. What are you frustrated about? Coming back home? The situation with the kids?" She paused, digging up the courage to actually say what she wanted to say. "Or is it just me?"

Prue's ice blue eyes snapped up to meet the honey brown of her baby sister. It was just as she'd feared. Paige was hurt. Despite her best efforts to keep her problems to herself and just enjoy her new sister's company, she'd managed to make the poor woman feel it was a personal affront to her.

"Prue, if you didn't want to meet with me, why'd you ask?"

The older woman pursed her lips, trying to figure out the best way to try to explain what she was going through. "Paige, this isn't about you. At least not directly."

"Gee, that's reassuring."

Prue's face softened, her lips turning up just slightly. "You're my sister, Paige. I may not have gotten to know you like the others have, but it doesn't change the fact you're family. Family means the world to me. It's just hard for me to come back here and find everything so. . .different. No one knows who I am, or even can, for that matter. You and Pheobe and Piper all have your own lives, which for the last twenty years haven't included me in them. It's frustrating."

"Yeah, okay, but how come this is all coming out now? Are you mad because I took your spot as a Charmed One?"

"No, don't be silly, of course not."

Paige had a sinking feeling the statement wasn't entirely true, but didn't know the other woman well enough to say so. Instead, she continued her questioning. "It has to tick you off, though, right? My coming into the picture and getting all the things you had."

"It's more like losing them all in the first place."

"And hanging out with me reminds you of losing all of it?"

Prue nodded, brushing her bangs back behind her ears. "It's complicated. I want to get to know you, Paige. I do, but at the same time, it does remind me of all I lost. But, I swear I am not mad at you. The situation just kind of sucks."

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yeah, I think there is. Why don't you tell me a little bit about yourself? I feel like I don't really know anything about you."

"Okay. Well, Mom and my Dad– her whitelighter, Sam– left me at this church since witches and whitelighters still weren't allowed to be together back then. I was eventually adopted by two of the most amazing and loving people any kid could ask for. They were the best. I just wish I would have appreciated them sooner, you know?"

Prue noticed her half-sister's face fall, her eyes getting moist. Her big sister instincts took over and she took the younger woman's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

Paige's heart was warmed by the gesture, allowing her to continue her tale. "They died in a car crash when I was a teenager. I only survived because I instinctively orbed to safety. After that, I just wanted to make them proud. I changed my rebellious, hellion ways and went to college and became a social worker."

"I know they'd be really proud of you for everything you've accomplished. Any parent would be."

The younger sister felt tears prick her eyes at the compliment. "Thanks. I still miss them everyday though."

"I know what that's like," Prue softly confessed. "I was older than Piper and Phoebe when Mom died. Sometimes, I still have nightmares about Dad telling us she wasn't ever coming back home, or I'll see her drowning, and I try to save her but can't."

"Is that why you were afraid of the water?"

Prue frowned. "How did you know that?"

"Our lovely sisters informed me about it," Paige answered with a smile. "See, told ya I know all about you."

"I guess so." Prue hesitated a moment before venturing, "In the interest of my catching up, and if you don't mind my asking, how did you meet Piper and Pheobe innyway?"

"This is going to sound kind of strange, but I was always drawn to P3, and had always felt this sort of connection to the place and to all of you. I even sketched the triquetra without knowing what it was. So, when I saw your funeral announcement, I felt this need to be there. So, I went, and I was giving my condolences to Piper and Pheobe when our friendly neighborhood psychic got a premonition of me getting attacked by Shax. Things just kind of went from there."

Prue stared at her white tea cup. "Shax. I can't believe he attacked you too."

"He was the first demon I ever helped to vanquish."

"Good."

"Prue," Paige suddenly said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

Paige shrugged a little. "Part of me used to hate you. All these years, I've been so jealous of you. Piper and Phoebe always talked about you like you were a saint and the best witch and sister to have ever lived, and part of me resented it. A lot. Like no matter what I did, I would never be able to compare. You got to be raised with them, and forge this bond I didn't have with them until I was an adult. Part of me wondered if I would ever have a place in their hearts like you do. I was so excited to finally meet you, but then I started wondering if now you were back. . .maybe, I wouldn't have a place anymore."

The older sister's mouth fell open as her own fears were spoken by the younger woman.

"You'd all start talking about your old stories, and I'd just sit there," Paige continued. "Which, is cool. You guys need to spend time together and reconnect– yada yada yada. Whatever, it's fine. I'm just scared of not belonging anymore. Not to mention how nervous I was just meeting you today. You're practically a living legend, and I'm just little ol' me."

Prue took her sister's hand again, this time with both of her own. "Paige, look at me. You have nothing to be jealous, all right? I'm not any more special than you are. In fact, these days, you're probably ten times the witch I ever was. And you've always been one hell of a witch from what I heard. You guys taking out the Source proves that."

"Yeah. All four times," Paige joked.

"Piper and Phoebe love you," the whitelighter continued. "You are part of this family, and I swear you will always have a place in it." She ducked her head bashfully, "Actually, I was sort of thinking _I_ would be the misfit. . ."

Paige's honey eyes turned circular. "You? Really?"

"Yeah. I'm not Charmed, and I've missed so much. . .I wondered exactly what it was I could possibly bring to the table these days."

The younger sister smirked. "Rumor has it you're a pretty awesome big sister. I could use another big sister to protect me from the wrath of Piper when it turns its fury in my direction, which it seems to like to do." She interrupted herself, "Through faults totally not my own, I might add. . .okay, well, mostly not my own. . .anyway, I figure if anyone can take her, it'd be you. Besides, a girl never can have too many sisters, right?"

Prue smiled gently, the rigid cold of her ice blue eyes melting. "I couldn't agree more."

000

_Therefore it is clear through the arguments presented within this paper that the political tensions of the early millennium were in fact escalated by the Iraq war which led, subsequently, to the complete dismissal of the two party system_ _as well as the electoral college and these changes created the system currently in place._

Wyatt reread his closing paragraph a few times. It sounded pompous. He noticed he had a tendency to sound arrogant when he wrote research papers. Then again, if he used hedge words, the professors all yelled at him about believing in his argument. So, apparently, cocky was in.

He frowned, feeling certain the grammar was horrendously wrong. Grammar had never been his thing. He was more of a history and political science type of a guy. Even psychology was interesting to him. Grammar? Writing? Literature? Not so much. He'd leave those to his girlfriend.

Maybe, he should have her correct his paper when she got home.

A soft knock came through his closed door. He took off his earphones (which he'd put on even though he couldn't write with music on; they just helped him concentrate) and got up from his desk chair, moving to answer the door.

It was Molly. She was wearing jeans and a dark mauve sweater, her black hair straightened and falling past her shoulders. Although her style of dress was her recently acquired perky fashion, her face was a land of pain and confusion. Something in her eyes made Wyatt suck in his lips as his heart ached for her.

"Hi," she softy greeted.

The Twice Blessed forced his usual sunny smile for her. He hoped she didn't notice it for the difficult effort it seemed to be. "Hey, You. You know Chris is still in school, right?"

"I came to talk to you."

His smile turned genuine. "Really? How come?"

"We're friends, right? Even if you aren't my whitelighter anymore?"

"Of course. I always thought we were pretty good friends."

"I was dating your brother then."

Wyatt frowned, slowly folding one arm over the other. "You're not now?"

She blushed, ducking her head causing her hair to fall into her face. She put the fallen hair back behind her ears. "Yeah, sort of. It's just. . ."

"Complicated?" he supplied.

She looked up with a soft smile playing on her mouth. "Yes. Complicated is a good word for it. Anyway, with Chris and I having so many problems right now, I just wanted to make sure you wouldn't feel stuck in the middle if I came to you for advice."

"Advice?" Wyatt casually slipped his hands to the safety of his pockets. "I don't know if anyone has warned you, but I don't give very good advice. That's more Aunt Pheobe's shtick. I'm an excellent listener though. Got a gold star for it when I was in elementary school. I think that really says something."

The young woman laughed softly, her first laugh since her world had completely turned on its head. "Okay then, if you don't mind. . .could we talk?"

The witchlighter stepped aside, allowing his guest passage into his room. He closed the door after her then moved back over to his desk, saving his file and closing out the program before turning back to look at Molly who was sitting on the edge of his bed. He took a seat in his desk chair, spinning it back so he was facing her again. "All right. Shoot."

"I love Chris."

"Good. He loves you too."

"_But_. . ."

"Oh drat, a but."

Molly shook her head at his attempt to keep things light, appreciating Wyatt's sense of humor more than ever. "But," she continued, "I don't know how to get past this."

"The him and Case having a baby thing."

"How can you say it so nonchalantly? I knew you loved her before, and now, you guys are actually a couple. Doesn't it eat you up? Make your stomach feel like it's full of acid and knots while your heart is getting treated with a potato peeler?"

"Wow. Vivid," Wyatt remarked. "Accurate description of the symptoms though."

Molly leaned forward, searching the young man's eyes for a sign of his pain. It took her a moment, but she saw it: right underneath the surface of his stunning cerulean blue eyes lay a murky quality only those who knew him well could see. She leaned back, folding her arms over her chest. "How do you do it?"

"Hmm?"

"Push it down like that? I assume it's how you've managed to stay with her through this whole big mess, right?"

The Twice Blessed let out a breath, leaning back in his chair. "It's not easy. Not gonna tell you it is. You have to really want your relationship pretty much more than anything else. I've been in love with her for years, just waiting for her to see what was really between us. She has, and some people may doubt the validity of it, but I don't. I know her better than anyone. I can tell it's for real. So, as much as it hurts– and it hurts like hell– I will push past this. Because love like ours could be doesn't come around but once every lifetime. I don't plan on throwing mine away because she made a mistake, especially one she didn't even make while we were together."

"Wow. You must be some kind of a Saint, Wyatt. I can't even look at Chris, and you're talking about her like she's the love of your life with no doubt in your mind."

"I'm not a Saint, Molly. Our situation is different than yours with Chris. A. We weren't together. She was a free agent. B. I've loved her too long not to know her faults backward and forward. I fell in love with her anyway."

"I love Chris enough to know his faults too. I never would have thought him a cheater though."

Wyatt pulled a face. "I do hate to bring this up, but. . .you are kind of dead. Not in a traditional sense of the word, but definitely in a I-was-at-your-funeral type of way. I'm not saying it excuses my idiot brother but– still have to say it."

"I know," Molly half-moaned, putting her head in her hands. "It's awful. Unimaginable really. Who knows what I would have done if the roles were reversed? It's just. . .I can't stop thinking about it. About them. That's the big issue really. My heart feels like it was cheated on, and now, I can't stop picturing them. And then there's the baby. I'm going to have to see evidence of their actions forever if I want to stay with Chris."

"Again, it's different for me," the young man started, "it's going to be my nephew. I'm going to love this child like crazy. So, in some ways, it helps me deal knowing that. Other times, it really makes me want to go on a vanquishing spree. After all, my girlfriend– a woman I've loved for _years_– is pregnant with my kid brother's child. And this is going to sound really sexist and caveman, but. . .it's like he permanently marked his territory."

Molly wrinkled her nose. "I think a better way to put it might be– they have a connection you guys don't."

"No. That's not quite right. Let me put it this way. You ever notice, for example, a married guy and his pregnant wife? He starts getting super protective of her?"

"Yeah. . .so?"

"It's part of that. Some sort of innate biological imperative where guys don't like sharing the mother of their children."

"Don't you think that idea is a little. . .old fashioned to say the least?"

Wyatt shrugged. "I don't know. Does human nature– from a biological standpoint– ever change? You know what? Let's just change the topic. We're here to discuss you and Chris. Not me. I'm dealing. You're not."

"I can listen too, if you want me to."

"I know. I'm okay, though. Well, as okay as I'm going to be in this circumstance."

"How? I still can't understand why you can push past it, and I don't seem able to. I love Chris. I know his faults and love him anyway. So, why can't I look at him without this anger and hurt starting to bubble up?"

The Twice Blessed leaned back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "What do you think of when you look at Chris?"

"Him and _her_."

"That's why."

"Huh?"

The young man let out a breath, leaning forward so his elbows were resting on his knees. "You can't think about it. You just can't. If you let yourself dwell on what happened, you literally will be trapped in this horrible, angry, hurt state forever. I'm not suggesting you just forget it happened because that's impossible. I'm saying when you look at Chris, start listing off everything that made you fall in love with him in the first place. As soon as you feel the anger or hurt rising start thinking about the wonderful things he's done with or for you, or how you love his dreamy eyes or his hot tush."

Molly laughed out loud. "Did you really just go there? Dreamy eyes and hot tush? You know he's your brother, right?"

"Hey, I know what the girls say. I'm the tall muscular one with the sensitive, soulful eyes. Chris is the lean dark one with captivating jade. Plus, we both have awesome gluts."

"Gee, Wyatt, sounds like your self-esteem is a bit low," she teased, still laughing softly.

"What? I have a very nice butt. I like my butt. I haven't looked at Chris' obviously, but it gets good reviews. I think I heard you mention something about it once or twice."

Molly kept laughing, her eyes almost watering from it. "I can't believe I'm talking about this with you. But, you're right. You both have very very nice rear ends."

Wyatt raised a brow. "You looked at mine?"

"Before I dated Chris," she defended. "I sort of might have had a little teeny tiny crush on you..."

"Seriously?"

"You didn't know?"

"No, I didn't. You didn't ever speak to me before the Friday before Senior Prom."

"Shy."

"Ah. Well, I'm honored to have been crushed on by you. Says a lot about me if a girl as great as you thinks I'm worth it. Ooh, can I tell Chris?"

"No."

"Come on, it'll be fun. Little bit of payback for us."

Molly quirked a brow. "You think he'd care?"

Wyatt grinned mischievously. "It'd drive him nuts– especially if he didn't know the details."

"You know what? Go ahead and tell him. Rub it in to your hearts content."

"Awesome. Now, where were we?"

"I'm thinking about Chris' eyes and butt."

"And?"

Molly grinned. "I'm definitely not angry. . ."

Wyatt pulled a face. "Yuck. Okay, my mind took that to a bad place. So, changing the subject– did this help you at all?"

The whitelighter smiled, nodding her head. "Yeah. I think I'm actually ready. Next time I see Chris, I'm going to make sure things go a lot better. We're worth it."

000

An entire school day had gone by torturously slowly. Even more painfully than usual as a matter of fact. At least for Chris. Every class he was in there were notes passed and whispers and eyes in his direction. In some cases, other guys would just shake their heads sympathetically at him before looking back down at their desk. Needless to say, Chris didn't learn much about equations, the mole road, or the past subjunctive of spanish verbs.

To make the day even worse, at lunch, Chris had gone to find Kip, hoping his telepath friend might be able to help he and Casey out with their situation, but low and behold, after asking a few people where the young man was Chris had discovered Kip was home sick. Meaning hung-over and faking.

He'd noticed Jessica hadn't been at her locker either. Then, he remembered she was at some theatre thing in L.A. until next week.

Casey had been M.I.A. as well. He'd checked her locker. No sign of her. He went through the cafeteria. Nothing. The library. Not there either. Finally, he started asking around. Those who didn't start grinning, giggling or tilting their heads to the side while conveying their deepest sympathies, actually managed to answer him that no, they hadn't seen her since either class or sometime during the morning.

Starting to panic about the demon getting his friend, Chris reached out with his senses and discovered she was in the ladies' room. He was tempted to head upstairs and call through the door to make sure she was ok, but it was about that time Valerie Stateton had walked by talking to one of her lemmings.

"Oh, please, you can't feel sorry for someone like that. They bring it on themselves," she was saying. "I'm close personal friends with Sam, and he always said she had a huge appetite if you know what I mean."

The brainless follower gave the laugh she was expected to.

"Honestly, a girl like that. . .it was only a matter of time. Though, between you and me, I bet there was foul play in it."

"Foul play?"

"Sam always did say she was in love with Chris Halliwell. Now, he's trapped."

Chris didn't even realize as his hands turned to fists, his jaw tightening.

"You think she. . .? Really?"

"Don't be so naive, Shelly. The girl just happens to get knocked up during a one night stand with the guy she's been ga-ga for since forever ago? Puh-lease. She set the poor guy up like dominoes."

Unable to stand hearing another word, Chris marched straight over to Valerie, towering over the blonde one with his arms firmly over his chest. "You and I need to talk. Now."

"Shelly, go get me my Evian."

The underclassman scurried away.

"Chris, darling, so sorry to hear about your circumstances. Terrible. Just terrible."

"A. Never call me darling. In fact, don't call me anything. Don't talk about me or to me because you and I? So not friends. Not even civil acquaintances at this point. In fact, right about now, I pretty much hate your guts. B. You need to stop what you're doing. Mine and Casey's business is just that. You keep your fake nose to yourself."

She gasped, immediately reaching up for her nose. "It's not..."

He quirked a brow at her. "Right. Whatever. Just keep your mouth shut. You've done enough damage. You wanted to hurt Case, guess what? You succeeded. The stunt you pulled this morning with her locker was plain cruel, so it did the job superbly. Congratulations, you're a bitch. Do anything like it again, and I swear I will make you suffer personally."

"I see your point."

"Good."

Valerie smiled thinly, walking off. Not two seconds later, back at the side of her fan club of one's side, she turned to look directly at Chris, stating loudly, "She sure has him duped."

Chris was a good guy. He was an even better witch. But, right then neither of those traits could override the burning hatred forming in the pit of his stomach. If the human way wasn't going to work, Chris thought maybe the magical way might.

He looked up to the ceiling and murmured quietly,"Okay, no personal gain consequences on this for the following reasons: I'm not going to do anything negative to her unless she brings it on herself. It's a lesson not a punishment. Plus, I can deal with this situation, but Casey can't in her condition, and since this kid is going to be important to all of you in the future, I'm thinking what's good for mommy is good for baby. So, not for me."

When no impending thunder sounded, Chris took the lack of a sign as a sign. He stared at the back of Valerie's retreating head. Whispering under his breath, "This mortal needs a lesson taught. Give her one that can't be bought. Attach to her the wiccan reed, return the energy she does feed. Every time that she acts cruel, make her look three times the fool."

"Heelloooo," Valerie called to the poor young man reading at _her_ table. "Do you know who I am? Move. This table is for people _with_ social lives. Meaning no reject book brains like you."

Chris had watched as out of no where one of Wyatt's ex-jock pals, Jake, who was walking by Valerie to get to the athlete's table, tripped, his bowl of soup, milk containers, apple sauce and french fries flying into the air landing all over the snob. As she screamed in surprise, Chris smirked, observing the damage.

French fries hung from her precious red hair, soup splashed all over the front of her cashmere sweater and the witch's personal favorite, the pile of applesauce resting on her designer boots. Though, his second favorite part was the howls of laughter from the entire cafeteria. Everybody loves a good humiliation.

Chris never had gotten the chance to go up and find Casey. The bell had rung, and by the time he got up to the door of the ladies' room, his lab partner, Sydney Blare, told him she saw the other young woman leave for her next class in a hurry.

So, here he was, the school day finally over, and all he could do was worry about Casey. He'd tried sensing for her and knew she was in the building, but he had such a migraine going he could'nt focus enough to pinpoint exactly where, which meant he had to search the old fashioned way.

Which is when his phone decided to ring.

He pulled it from his pocket and saw on the i.d. the call was being placed from his home. Not knowing whether it was about a demon or something else, he immediately answered. "Talk to me."

_"Chris?"_

The young man stopped dead in his tracks as Molly's voice came through the other end. "Molly? Hey. I thought it was Wyatt. He's usually the only one home at this time."

_"Yeah, I know. I stopped by to see him."_

"Oh?"

_"We talked about some things. Friend stuff. Anyway, I was hoping you and I could get together tonight if you don't have too much work to do."_

Chris felt his mouth slip into a smile. "I'll make time. When do you want to get together?"

_"How about when you get back? We can watch a movie or something."_

A movie. Simple but to the young man it was perfect. She was trying. Really trying. "Definitely. Sounds great. I'll see you in a little bit okay?"

_"Okay. . .Chris?"_

"Yeah?"

_"I love you."_

Chris closed his eyes as the words washed over him like a soothing rain. He couldn't keep the emotion from his voice as he answered, "I love you too."

There was a small pause, and Chris could almost picture the look on her face– the content smile on the corner of her lips as her eyelashes fluttered a few times in sync with her quicker beating heart. _"Bye, Chris."_

"Bye."

Suddenly, his day just got a hundred times better.

The young man closed the phone, slipping it back into his pocket as he continued his sojourn through the halls. While he was still worried about his pregnant friend, his spirit didn't feel quite as wild as it had moments earlier. Molly always had been able to calm him down.

"Chris, you still looking for your friend?" Sydney asked as he passed by her locker.

"Yeah. I'm worried about her. Do you know where she is?"

The glass wearing woman let her blue eyes sink to the floor. She pushed her wheat colored hair behind her ears. "So, it's true, huh?"

"The rumor?"

She nodded.

"Yeah. It's true."

Sydney raised her older-than-her-years eyes to gaze into his green. "We all deal with our grief differently. Before I tell you where she is, I want you to know if you need anything– tutoring over the summer or next year, a babysitter sometime– I'd be glad to help. Not all of us are as vindictive or unsympathetic as the in-crowd sheep."

"Thanks, Syd. I appreciate it."

"You're not going to like this. . .Casey got pulled into the counselor's office right after last period. As far as I know, she's still there."

"Okay, thanks."

000

"Are you sure everything is all right?" the young woman counselor repeated for the fifth time according to Casey's rising count.

The young woman smiled politely while a tiny version of herself inside her mind's eye shot herself in the head. "I'm positive."

"You do look a little pale, and you seemed pretty upset when I called you into my office."

"I was nervous. It's not every day I get summoned in to see the school therapist. Which, by the way, you still haven't said why."

The tall black haired woman smiled professionally. "Well, I was informed from a few students that you were crying quite frequently today. Among other things."

"I didn't cry today."

"All right, but I was also told you slapped Tate Daniels, which, if he were to come forward, would land you in detention for a week. A place you've never once visited or even come close to visiting before today."

Casey rested her forehead in one hand. "He offended me. I lost my temper."

"Any reason why?"

"Why what?"

"You lost your temper this time but no other time."

"What he said was far more unforgivable than any other insult ever given to me."

The counselor nodded, pushing up her glasses as she marked something down.

The young woman raised her eyes, long tired of this conversation. "Can I go? I mean, is there some rule saying I have to be here?"

"I'm worried about you."

"Aren't counselors supposed to help when they've actually, I don't know..._been asked_ _to_?"

The woman narrowed her brown eyes. "We're supposed to look out for signs of trouble. You're exhibiting a number of them. I wouldn't be doing my job if I didn't make sure you were really fine."

"And my word isn't enough for you?"

"Quite honestly? No. I feel you're either too ashamed or fearful to speak the truth about what's going on."

Casey leaned back in her chair folding her arms over her chest. "Or maybe I don't like other people digging into my business. My dad's culture isn't very big on the caring and sharing. Our problems are ours and ours alone. I kind of like it that way. Besides, you can't help someone who doesn't want to be helped."

"What did Nate say to you that was so bad?"

"If I tell you will you let me leave?"

"Perhaps."

The witch rolled her eyes. "Fine. He asked me for a quicky in the hall closet."

"And?"

Casey did a double-take. "What?"

"And then what happened?"

The young woman rose from her chair, grabbing her book bag. "Then I slapped him and left– kind of like I'm going to do right now."

With the counselor repeating her name over and over, ordering her back into her office, Casey left, slamming the door shut behind her. As soon as she was back out in the hall, she pulled out her phone, dialing Wyatt.

_"Hey, Sweetie. What's up?"_

"I just really needed to hear your voice."

_"Cause it's just so darn sexy?"_

Casey chuckled softly. "Yes, but more for what you just did."

_"Which was. . .?"_

"Made me laugh. Made this horrible tense, angry, frustrated feeling go away. I don't know how you do it, Wyatt, but you always make me feel calm again."

_"I'm glad to have helped, but what happened that you needed me to?"_

"Long story. I'll tell you later." She paused, grinning as she got an idea. "I want to make us dinner tonight. Just you and me. It could be like our first official date."

_"Sounds perfect."_

"Okay, good. I'll have Chris stop by the grocery store and then we'll be straight home. I literally cannot wait to see you. I swear, all I want right now is to be cuddled up with you on the couch."

_"Well, I definitely wouldn't complain about that. Piece of heaven is having you in my arms."_

Casey blushed, rolling her eyes. "That was so cheesy, Halliwell."

_"Did it work?"_

"Maybe."

_"I'll take it."_

"I'll see you in a bit."

_"Till then, Angel."_

"Angel?"

_"I might be the whitelighter, but you look more the part of an angel."_

"Where do you come up with this stuff?"

_"Don't know. I'm thinking it's hereditary."_

"Goodbye, Wyatt."

_"Bye, Angel."_

Casey shook her head, the smile on her face immovable as she closed her phone and stuck it back in her pocket. Once she had her phone back in place, she readjusted her backpack, which was when she spotted Chris hurrying down the hall in her direction. Even at a distance she could see the worry marring his features.

"Where the hell have you been all day?" he immediately asked.

"It's been a long day," she answered, falling into step with him as they headed for the parking lot. "I never thought it would be this bad. I don't know why everyone is making such a big deal out of this. I can name five other girls in our class alone that our in my condition."

"We're highschool celebs," Chris answered. "I'm _the_ Wyatt Halliwell's kid brother, making me popular by proxy. You dated the star basketball player for a year. The more well known we are, the more the idiots talk. Longer too."

"Great."

"So, you going to tell me what happened?"

Casey let out a breath. "When I got back to my locker right before lunch there was another surprise in there. This time a condom with a note saying, 'bet you wish you'd used me.' I just couldn't deal with anymore just then. So, I went and hid in the girl's bathroom. I'm sorry I ditched you for lunch."

"It's ok. I was just worried about you. So, why did the counselor pull you in?"

"Some of our classmates couldn't keep their mouths shut. Not to mention I slapped Nate Daniels. Not that he'd turn me in for it."

"Nate...the stoner kid? What'd he do?"

"He said he'd always wanted to try it without a raincoat, and since I was preggers would I want to ride the Nate love train in the nearest supply closet before I lose my goddess like hotness to mommy-hood. Or something to that affect."

Chris stopped mid-step. "He _what_?"

"Forget it," she waved him off. "I slapped him. He went back to huffing and puffing and all was well again."

"I'm sorry you had to put up with that."

"I didn't."

"You know what I mean."

"Yeah, but in his defense, he doesn't have enough brain cells left to know what he did was even wrong. I really don't think he realized how awful it was. In fact, I'm pretty sure he saw it as a good thing..."

Chris shook his head. "Still. It isn't right. You have enough to deal with without those idiots, which is partly why I might have cast a tiny little spell on Valerie. . ."

"You didn't."

"A twist on the rule of three. When she's mean, she's made to suffer humiliation. I figure it's pretty harmless so long as she behaves herself like a decent person."

"So for her, it'll be ugly."

"Probably."

"Personal gain."

"No way. I cleared it first."

Casey looked doubtful, but let the matter go. "Let's just get out of here. I've had too much of this place today. What do you say?"

"Agreed."

With his arm around her shoulders, the young man walked her the rest of the way to his truck. While he didn't say any more about the subject aloud, he couldn't help but wonder just how much more they would have to take. More specifically, how much more could Casey deal with now that she wasn't just responsible for herself?

tbc. . .


	38. That Thing You Do

Sorry again. Still haven't quite gotten the new schedule down. I'll keep trying though.

CHAPTER 38

**That Thing You Do**

Chris shook his head as he watched Casey sort the Skittles she'd bought at the grocery store. After both of them buying supplies to make a couple of amazing dinners, she'd gone and spent her last dollar on a bag of candy. Then, she'd promptly started picking out the colors and putting them in coordinating piles, every now and then popping one of the candies into her mouth. It took all of Chris' will power not to shake his head at her.

"What?" she asked, noticing him staring as she put an orange colored Skittle into her mouth.

"What are you doing?"

"Eating."

"No. You're organizing."

She looked down at the different colored piles in her hand before shrugging. "They have to be even."

"And people say I'm neurotic."

Chris finally couldn't help himself, shaking his head as he pulled up to curb outside the Manor. Putting the truck into park, he turned off the engine and shot another look at his friend. "You know, you really shouldn't be eating that stuff."

She tossed a purple one into her mouth. "Oh?"

"It's not healthy. You didn't have lunch today since you were hiding in the bathroom. Now, instead of having a decent snack, you're having sugar."

"And?"

"It's not good for the baby."

Casey almost choked on her Skittle. "Excuse me?"

"I started reading on Medical boards online about child development. The first months are crucial. Everything is starting to develop, and if you want the kid to be healthy, the mother should have plenty of rest, light work-outs, and healthy foods like fruits, vegetables, and protein. Not junk food."

"Are you kidding me? Chris, I'm not even a full week along. The kid isn't even a kid yet. It's a fertilized egg."

"But, you need to start thinking about these things now."

Just to push his buttons, she ate another piece of candy.

"Case, I mean it."

Another.

"Stop that."

"Hmm...maybe, I should wash this down with a nice glass of wine."

"You're joking right?"

"Or drink about three glasses of coffee while taking a couple of aspirin."

"You're mocking me."

She pushed open the door. Just before exiting, the female witch paused, pretending to ponder. "Huh. I wonder what would happen if I started smoking? This could turn into a real science experiment."

"So not funny."

She grinned while grabbing the groceries from the floor with one hand. Bags in hand, she hopped out of the car, kicked shut the open car door and headed toward the Manor. Every now and again, she moved her hand to her lips to suck another Skittle into her mouth.

Chris hurriedly opened his door, jumped down, slammed shut the door and chased after her, taking the four bags from her hand before she could stop him.

The young woman glared at him. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying the groceries."

"They're not heavy."

"Don't care."

"You're going to be completely unreasonable about all this aren't you?"

Chris pretended not to hear her as they reached the doors. He held one open for her, waiting until she was in the entrance before he followed her in and closed the door behind himself. Once he did so, he was greeted by an angry glare, a tapping foot and hands on hips. He let out a breath. "Humor me for a bit, will you?"

"How long is your control freak nature going to demand you treat me like an invalid?"

"I'm not a control freak."

She raised a brow.

"I'm not," he defended, moving toward the kitchen to put their purchases away.

As he started unloading the groceries and putting the items into their proper places, he saw from the corner of his eye his friend had pursued him into the kitchen and was still shooting him a look of pure skepticism.

He ignored her.

"Chris, you are the biggest control freak I know. You just can't deal when things are out of your power or not done just the way you want them to be done. But, and this is a _big_ but, I am not going to put up with you treating me like I'm some damsel in distress or an ignorant moron."

Shutting the fridge, he shot back, "A. You couldn't pull off damsel in distress even if you tried. B. I would never treat you like a moron."

"The candy comment? That wasn't condescending?"

"No. It was just a suggestion."

She scoffed. "Right. Like you do suggestions. You _told_ me I shouldn't eat that stuff, and you used the patented Chris Halliwell tone of patronization. Not to mention the deal with the groceries."

"You shouldn't be carrying all these."

"So I couldn't carry _any_?"

Chris rolled his eyes in frustration. "Why do you have to make such a big deal out of this?"

"Gosh, gee, I don't know. Maybe because it ticks me off, and I don't want to have to kill you later on once you've driven me completely crazy through months and months of you treating me like glass."

"Okay, but here's the thing," the young man countered, "you are the most stubborn woman I have ever met, which says a hell of a lot considering who my mother and aunts are, so I know if I don't start hammering this stuff into you now, you'll never let me help you later on."

"What makes you think I'll need your help later on?"

Chris folded his arms over his chest. "You think you can do everything, and under normal circumstances you probably could, but these aren't normal circumstances. You're pregnant now, which means you're not just responsible for you. So, you have to be more careful than normal, which includes all the stuff I mentioned in the truck– taking it easy and eating right. Both of which you suck at."

"I can take things easy."

It was his turn to look dubious.

"Fine. Maybe– just maybe– I do take on too much sometimes, but if I'm conceding this point, you need to give me one: You are a control freak. So, when I tell you to back off, you need to listen. Got it?"

Chris put the last of the groceries away. When it was in the cupboard where it belonged, he turned to face Casey again and saw without a shadow of a doubt how serious she was being. He let out a breath. "Fine. I'm a control freak. Is that really so bad?"

"Not normally. But, if I have to deal with all the other pregnancy stuff, I don't want lectures every day on what I'm doing wrong. _Bueno_?"

The corner of the young man's mouth turned up slightly as he slid his hands into his pants pockets. "Yeah. Ok. I'm not promising I won't still say things sometimes. Not sure I can help it. But, if you tell me to shut up, I will at least try."

"Good. You do that, and I will try to be more careful about everything."

"So, can I get you some carrots to munch on? An apple perhaps?"

Casey rolled her eyes. "Pass. At least let me enjoy my junk food for one more week."

"One more?"

"One. Though, if you want to take these yellow ones off my hand, it would be less sugar intake..." She held out the hand with the remaining Skittles.

Chris frowned. "Why just the yellow?"

"I don't like them."

"They taste the same."

"Nu-uh. Your palate must be awful if you can't tell the difference between Skittle flavors."

Chris rolled his eyes. "I'm a Sous Chef, Case. My palate is perfect. It's just coloring. Skittles all taste the same."

"Who's the Pastry Chef and an apprentice Chocolatier here?"

"You..."

"So, which of us would know more about confectionary?"

"You don't make Skittles."

"Answer the question, _Corazoncito_."

The corner of the young man's mouth quirked up in amusement. "Pet names will not win this argument, _Princesa_. See, I can do it too."

Wyatt sauntered into the kitchen, a curious look showing on his brow as he spotted his brother and girlfriend seemingly at odds, yet both wearing equally amused expressions. Only these two could have fun while arguing.

"Hey you," Casey greeted. "How were classes?"

"Good. . ." He spotted the candy still in her hand. "Are those all yellow? Can I have one?"

"You like yellow ones?"

"They're my favorite."

Chris remarked, "Taste. The. Same."

"Have them all."

"Aw, thanks." Wyatt took the proffered yellow candies, throwing a number of them into his mouth at once. He then turned to his sibling, mouth still full and questioned, "What do you mean they taste the same?"

"Never mind," Chris mumbled, spotting the triumphant smirk on his friend's face.

"I love how you like the ones I don't," Casey commented happily.

"Guess, we do fit well," Wyatt replied after swallowing the Skittles.

"Mhmm," she cheerfully agreed, wrapping her arm around his neck, bringing the tall young man down to her level to land a solid kiss on his eagerly awaiting lips.

Chris pulled a face, turning his head away. "So don't want to see this."

Once the kiss ended, the Twice Blessed turned to his sibling. "Tough."

"Yeah, Chris, you're going to have to get used to it," Casey agreed.

"It's weird," the brunet boy defended.

"I disagree," the older brother replied. "I think it's great."

Casey smiled softly, her face completely glowing as she looked up at Wyatt. "Me too."

Their words didn't alleviate the awkward feeling Chris was suffering from. He'd known right away the relationship between the other two would be uncomfortable for him for a number of reasons. It was his big brother and the first girl he himself had ever been with. It was his big brother and his best friend. It was Wyatt and Casey. And it bugged him. And deep, deep down where he refused to acknowledge it– seeing them together made him a little jealous.

For as long as he could remember, Casey had been _his_. His friend. His lover. His person. Now? Now, she was Wyatt's and if there was one thing Chris had always hated it was playing second fiddle to his older brother, and if their relationship progressed, which instinctively Chris knew it would, Wyatt would become the important man in Casey's life.

"Hey? Anybody home?"

Chris shook his head at the louder voice, pulling himself from his thoughts. His sibling was grinning at him in a knowing manner, which only served to annoy the younger witchlighter. "What?"

"You were spacing," Casey answered, thankfully oblivious to the reason why.

Wyatt, on the other hand, knew exactly what had caused it. With a double meaning he asked, "You okay?"

"Fine."

The Twice Blessed pursed his lips in concern, tilting his head to the side. It was the Wyatt Halliwell signature gesture of I'm-not-buying-it. The next phase normally following the older teen's look would be another more direct question, but just as the blond opened his mouth to confront Chris about their situation, he was distracted by Molly's voice floating down the stairs.

"Your paper really is a mess. Don't you know how to use a comma?"

The owner of the voice appeared in the doorway to the kitchen a moment later, her ringlets bouncing to a stop as she spotted the two new arrivals. As soon as her hazel eyes landed on the other woman, Molly tensed, her gaze locked on Casey.

"Thanks again for looking it over for me," Wyatt awkwardly started. "I know my grammar stinks."

Molly didn't answer. Her jaw just tightened as her gaze began to burn hotter.

"Molly," Casey tried nervously, "It's really good to see you again. . ."

"Right. I'm sure," the other woman tersely answered.

The smaller woman flinched, her eyes dropping to the floor as her cheeks flushed.

Wyatt shot a worried look to his brother, who's face was already marred with anxiety. "So, Chris, I still owe you and Molly that dinner. . .from New Year's Eve, remember?"

"New Year's Eve," Molly repeated with a short laugh. She flicked her eyes over to Chris for a moment. "What I wouldn't give to go back to when my biggest problem was note in your back pocket."

Her boyfriend found he couldn't hold her gaze. As his jade eyes shifted to the side, his hands found refuge in his pockets. He would have said something, but his throat suddenly constricted, his tongue too swollen to form words.

"I'm sorry," the latina softly offered, her voice quivering. "I don't expect you to believe me, but I never meant for any of this to happen."

The whitelighter's focus snapped back to the other woman. Steel was more giving than the look found in her eyes. "You're right. I don't believe you. How can I? From day one, you've been after Chris, and the moment I was gone, you managed to manipulate the situation to seduce him. You are a game playing, manipulative sl– "

"– Molly, stop," Chris cut in.

"I'm sorry, Chris, but I refuse to play nicey-nice with the woman who got you into bed on the day of my _funeral_."

Trying to ease the mood, Wyatt joked, "Now, that's not something just anyone could say."

"_Ay Dios mio_."

"She didn't seduce me," Chris argued. "If anyone did any seducing, it was me."

"Well, that's just perfect isn't it? Just what a girl wants to hear from her boyfriend."

Realizing no one was paying attention to him, Wyatt mumbled, "Okay then. . ."

"I'm sorry, Molly, but it's the truth. The situation is what it is, and we all just have to deal with it."

"So, what? I'm supposed to make friends with this schemer? She plays some helpless victim, and you and Wyatt both fall right into the roles of her protectors. I'm sorry if I can't stand seeing her playing games with both of your lives."

Before either Wyatt or Chris could answer, Casey cut in. "Victim? Did you really just call me a _victim_? And playing games? What exactly is a game about all this? My father is dead. Yeah, that sure was fun going into the morgue and seeing his body ripped into several unidentifiable pieces. The nightmares I have about it are just hilarious. My mom has disowned me, and basically calls me a freak to my face. What girl isn't going to love that? Oh, and now, I've ruined my own life along with my best friend's because one night I was too sad and too stupid to do what was right. I'm having a baby at seventeen. I'm going to have a tiny little person to care for when I can't even manage my own life. My dreams for the future are pretty much toast, and I discovered too late who I'm really in love with, so now, I've managed to break Wyatt's heart too. Good times. Really."

Wyatt took his girlfriend's hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, softly soothing, "It's okay, Casey."

"See what I mean," Molly countered. "You use it to manipulate people's emotions. You used it to get these boys to fall all over you. Wyatt, I know you love her, but you could do so much better."

For the first time, the blond witch's eyes flashed dangerously in Molly's direction. "Don't go there. You have a right to be angry and hurt, but don't cross that line."

"Call me a bitch," Casey went on, her ire raised, "a slut, a whore, a tramp, anything else but _do not_ call me a victim. Don't you dare accuse me of using my own father's death in such a disgusting manner. You don't know me. You have no clue who I am or where I come from. These two boys are my family. I'm not going to give them up just because you're pissed off and in pain. I won't hold it against you if you shriek and call me names because I deserve it, but I'm not going anywhere. You're just going to have to get over yourself and your jealousy and maybe– oh, I don't know– start supporting the man you supposedly love during the most difficult time of his life."

"Which he wouldn't be going through if not for you," Molly shot back.

As the two girls' argument began to escalate, Wyatt turned to Chris. The brothers exchanged looks before each took the shoulders of their own prospective girlfriends, pulling them further away from each other.

Casey shook off Wyatt. "Let me go."

Molly settled down at the feel of Chris' hands on her shoulders, firm and warm. The fire in her dimmed, her mind clearing from its inebriated fury.

The brunette witch looked to Molly one last time, her eyes glistening. "I didn't think you could say anything to me to make me feel worse about this than I already did, but I was wrong."

With that said, the pregnant woman nearly ran from the room, her footsteps pounding on the stairs as she made her way up to Wyatt's room. The door slamming shut could be heard clearly from the kitchen.

Wyatt shared a concerned gaze with Chris before letting out a long breath. The blue eyes then turned to Molly's hazel. His voice was calm, almost resigned as he said, "You shouldn't have said those things."

"I know," she softly replied.

The Twice Blessed nodded, hooking his thumbs into his pants pockets. "I'm going to go check on her."

"Wyatt," Chris stopped the other teen, "make sure she eats some real food for dinner tonight. Please."

"Sure."

The blond turned and left the kitchen, his steps falling on the stairs was softer and slower than Casey's had been. Once he reached the top landing, neither Chris nor Molly heard his movements anymore.

After Wyatt had gone, Molly turned to face her boyfriend, knowing before she looked into his face how displeased he was going to be with her. Her hazel eyes reluctantly lifted up to his green where dark storm clouds were brewing.

"That?" Chris started. "So not cool."

"I know," she quietly moaned. "I know. And it's not like me. I don't intentionally hurt people. Not even people I don't like. It's just when I saw her, all the bad images came into my head at once, and I couldn't seem to get a grip on myself. I have never felt so _angry_ in my life. I just wanted to hurt her, and then the words came flying out of my mouth before I even realized what I was saying. I hate her. I really really hate her, and I've never hated anyone before, and I don't know how to stop."

"Well, you better figure it out and fast," Chris warned. "Because this can't keep happening."

Molly let out a breath nodding. "I know."

"Do you? I mean, do you really get how important it is for you to at least be civil to her?"

"She's still your friend."

"She's more than that, Molly," Chris corrected. "She's carrying my baby."

The young woman winced, swallowing down the wave of hurt and desire to cry.

"I'm not saying it to hurt you. I know it does, and for that I'm sorry. I can't change it, though. Can't even say I would if I could because I've seen my son now, and I would never wish him away."

Molly smiled softly. "That's a good thing, Chris."

"I think so too, which is why I have to put him and his needs before everything and everyone else." The witchlighter let out a breath, folding his arms over his chest as he regarded his girlfriend. "I love you completely. You know that. It's just. . .if you can't find a way to get along with Case. . .if you make me chose between you two. . .I will choose her."

That's when Marshal, mid-shimmer, crashed onto the kitchen table, bloody and broken.

tbc. . .

If anyone is interested in knowing the actors/actresses I have in mind for the original characters let me know and I'll tell you.


	39. Shout

CHAPTER 39

Shout

Casey curled up onto Wyatt's bed, grabbing a pillow and holding it against her chest as she fought against her hormones in a desperate attempt not to start crying. Unfortunately for her, her body just wasn't having it, and before long her eyelashes were wet and her cheeks streaked with moisture.

Never in her life had she felt like a horrible person. Flawed yes. Hot tempered and stubborn– most definitely. But, she never would have thought herself to be immoral, manipulative or untrustworthy. Suddenly, she wondered if maybe she was all those things without realizing it. Maybe, on some subconscious level she was a truly awful individual.

What would her father think of her? Of the mess she'd made of her life? If he were sitting there with her looking at her with his big soft dark eyes, would he still consider her his _lucerito_? Would she still be his baby girl– the pride and joy of his life? Or would the young woman she'd become in the last few weeks be a complete disappoint in her father's eyes?

At the thought of failing to make her father proud of her, the young witch began to sob into the pillow.

Sam, having fallen asleep on Chris' air mattress earlier, lifted his tiny head to look up at the young woman. His round brown eyes focused in on her and as she cried into the inanimate object, the dog tilted his head to the side in concern. It was a sad noise. So very very sad.

The dachshund rose to his little feet, leaping up onto the bed and scurrying over to her side, gently laying his head on her thigh and looking up at her.

Casey couldn't help but smile at the animal, stroking the top of his furry head and finding the gesture and the dog's gaze both to be quite soothing. She bent down, kissing the top of his head lightly. "Thanks, Sam."

Lights enveloped the puppy, whose head rose quickly at the strange feeling overcoming him. In a matter of a moment, the animal was no longer a four legged fur ball. Instead, on hands and knees was one very confused and very naked human boy.

The witch yelped in surprise, flicking out her hands and freezing the other teen.

"Hey, Casey?" Wyatt's voice softly called from the other side of the door. "Can I come in?"

"So not good. So very very not good," Casey muttered, climbing out of the bed to answer the door. She paused half-way there, looking back at the image of her frozen ex-boyfriend in his birthday suit. "Kinda good. Oooh, bad, Casey. Very bad Casey."

She ran back to the bed, tossing the blanket over Sam to cover him to some extent, then hurried back to the door, opening it. "Hi."

Wyatt knew something was up immediately. "Hi. . .you're all fidgety. Why are you all fidgety?"

"I have something to tell you, and you're not going to like it. I swear it's not my fault though. It just sort of happened. And I was present at the time it happened. Not that something actually _happened_ per se. . ."

"Sweetie, breathe. Nothing can be worse than things already are, right?"

"Ha. Haha. Oh, boy. You could so not be more wrong."

Casey opened the door the rest of the way and gestured for her boyfriend to enter. When he did she started gesticulating toward the bed. "He's not a dog anymore."

"I see that. Plus some." A little numb from shock, Wyatt asked, "Why is he in _my_ bed? Naked. In _my_ bed. I liked those sheets. Now, they're all. . .contaminated."

"I can explain. . .I think. . ."

"You were here," Wyatt seemingly suddenly realized. "With a naked man. In _my _bed."

"Yes, Wyatt, it is your bed and a very naked Sam is currently in it. Can we skip the shock and go straight to the part where we figure out how to explain to him what the hell he's doing here without any clothes? And as you so aptly put it–in _your_ bed? Because I somehow don't think he's going to really buy that Kip turned him into a dog, and he's been living here."

The Twice Blessed frowned, grabbing and rubbing the back of his neck as his brain started to creak into gear. "How did the spell wear off?"

"The only way the spell would have ended is if he learned how to be a good human again, right? Well, he did I think. He comforted me."

The blond arched a brow.

"Not like that," Casey rolled her eyes. "He just let me pet his head."

Both brows went up now.

"Gutter, Gutter, Gutter," his girlfriend chastised.

The Twice Blessed smiled softly as he looked down on the tiny woman standing before him. "You sounded just like my mom."

"And you're smiling about that why?"

"I love my mom."

It was Casey's turn to have her eyebrows climb upward, a teasing smirk on her lips.

"Yuck. That's sick. Sick and wrong. What's the matter with you?"

"You started it."

"Okay, you have a point. I'll stop giving you grief about this if you don't mock me about being a momma's boy. Deal?"

"Fair enough. So, what exactly are we going to do about this anyway? Chances are he's not going to remember anything about being a dog. Magic tending to clean up after itself and all. I certainly don't want him getting the wrong idea, so what do we tell him?"

"We don't."

"Come again?"

"I'll just use a sprinkle of memory dust on him."

Casey's dark brow arched, her arms folding over her chest. "You have memory dust?"

"Yeah. I'm a whitelighter."

"Chris doesn't have memory dust."

"He's half elder, but he's never had a charge. Therefore, no memory dust."

"Have you ever memory dusted me?"

"Now, why would you ask me that? What reason would I have to use memory dust on you?"

Casey shrugged. "I don't know. The fact you have the power to erase memories freaks me out."

"But the fact I have the ability to wipe every person off the face of the planet doesn't phase you?"

"You could?"

"I don't know. Maybe."

"Well, _now_, I'm freaked out about it."

Wyatt rolled his sky blue eyes. "You are the most paranoid person I know, which says so much considering who my brother is."

"Great. I'm the most stubborn _and_ paranoid."

"Huh?"

"Never mind. Just something Chris said earlier. Back to the problem at hand. So, you dust him, then what? What do we tell him about what's happened this whole time?"

Wyatt paused to think before offering, "Drunk and blacked it all out?"

"I think not. Blacking out for like a week from one bad night of boozing just isn't likely if even possible."

"Super bad acid trip?"

"Slightly more believable and enforces how stupid doing drugs really is. Only problem I see with it is what if he doesn't take drugs like that? I mean, I know he was using, but I don't know what it was. We can't just tell him he did it this time either because I'm sure all his stupid druggie friends would know the truth. And again, being on an acid trip for so long doesn't seem likely."

"I'm out. I've got nothing."

Sam unfroze. He frowned, completely confused as he looked over to Casey and Wyatt. "What's going on? Halliwell, how many times have I told you to stay away from my girl?"

"A. Not your girl. B. Not your call. C. Well. . . this," Casey flicked out her hands again, successfully re-freezing him. "Okay, I can't keep doing this. We need a plan. Fast."

"Hey, your freezing power is back under control. That's great."

"Yeah, now, I just have a whole new power to worry about." Off his worried look. "Not important. One dilemma at a time. Okay, so, how about we tell him he and his dad got into this really huge fight– probably about his mom since that's always been a hot topic for them. After the fight, Sam decided to go up to the cabin his family used to go to when he was a kid."

"They have a cabin?"

"His dad hasn't been back in years, but Sam took me up there during the summer so we could actually have some time alone– " realizing what she was implying and to whom, the young woman quickly added, "to fish. Man, did we really love fishing."

"Sex."

"Um. . .no?"

Wyatt gave a weak half smile, his eyes unreadable as their clear blue grew hazy. "It's okay. I knew. It's fine. We can talk about it when I get back– should really talk about a lot of things. Right now, though, I should orb him to this cabin and feed him the story. It sounds believable enough."

"Should I come with you?"

"Nah. I can use telepathy to get the location from you. I'll be fine. Just stay here, relax, and I'll be back before you know it. Then, we can have the whole relationship talk."

Casey quirked a brow. "Relationship talk?"

"You know, expectations, ground rules, exchanging rosters."

"Exchanging rosters?"

"Of people we," he gestured vaguely, "you know."

"Yeah, I know what a roster means. I just didn't think it was a big deal. Besides, don't we already know everyone on each other's rosters?"

Wyatt shrugged. "I don't know. I might know yours, but you couldn't know mine."

"Oh, I couldn't?"

"No one knows but Chris and the people involved. I don't even think Chris knows all of them."

"_All_ of them? How many are you talking?"

"I should get him back before he unfreezes," Wyatt remarked.

Before his girlfriend could respond, he and Sam both vanished from the room in a flurry of bright blue and white lights, the accompanying jingle of bells sounding their departure.

Casey stared at the spot her boyfriend had just been standing in a moment prior. "I can't believe it. He just dodged the question. Completely ignored me." With total shock she murmured, "Something tells me Wyatt Halliwell isn't as innocent as he seems. . ."

000

Every image, every thought, every sensation was confused. Nothing of the past few days could be sorted into their appropriate categories or time frames.

The brain is said to be quite a bit like a computer– storing information of all kinds in various file folders for later use. Often the brain runs multiple programs at once. Most of the time, the brain is the single greatest, most powerful machine in the history of life.

Marshal's brain had suffered too much to be put in the same category. His brain had undergone a complete crash due to Zayel. Every hard drive had been wiped clean. Even though he had been freed from the control of the other demon, the Vetala's modem was still fried, and a complete system failure was sure to happen any moment.

He didn't have much time before he would be forced to rejoin his family. Now freed from Zayel's control, Marshal was a free spirit, and a new life elsewhere was pulling at his already damaged mind and essence. Part of him deeply wanted to let go. It was the natural course of things. The only thing keeping him was his unfinished business: destroying Zayel.

Destroying a demon of such power would take immense subterfuge, power, and wit. In his confused and spiritually gaunt state, Marshal hadn't stood a chance. Now, after all was said and done, the only remnants in his quest for vengeance were broken images, mingled memories of disjointed events, words, feelings and thoughts.

_In the darkness there was a stinging cold like bare skin on frozen metal. It frosted his bones and chilled his blood. What was left of his blood. The rest was slick and sticky on the floor beneath him. A puddle of shadow shrouded crimson pooling on the barely visible floor._

_This would be the third host Zayel killed this week. Marshal didn't know much about what being a Vetala meant, but he knew without a proper host and enough time to recharge, he would not last much longer._

Voices in the present. Male and female. The words a series of tones in his unconscious mind, which did not formulate any sort of conversation out of the noises.

_Marshal paced. He paced a lot now. The girl was supposed to tell the Halliwells about him. The Halliwells were his only chance. Wouldn't the mighty Warren witches want to annihilate their enemy as soon as possible? Where were they? Why hadn't they attacked by now?_

The darkness shifted, lightening slightly, but still holding strong.

_"What do you mean 'she got away'?"_

Someone's hand was touching him. It was big. Like a man's hand. It wasn't hurting him. Just touching. It'd been a long time since someone's hand had touched without pain.

_Marshal vaguely remembered what he had been like before he'd been released from this monster's hold. He had been a shell of a being– easily confused, easily manipulated and easily amused. Now, he had to pretend to be the same half-life form he'd been before if he had any chance of remaining undetected as a traitor._

_"She got away," he reiterated in the old childish voice he'd used before. "You know. As in she isn't here anymore. Gosh, and I thought you were supposed to be the master-mind."_

_"I understand the concept you nit-wit. What I want to know is how you let it happen. She was right here in our grasp. How could one little witch manage to get by you? One little witch whose powers are not even working."_

_"I never said she didn't have help," the minion replied with an unspoken duh. He rifled through the drawer next to the stone hard bed in the tiny apartment they had above ground. He found a piece of chocolate and started unwrapping it. "How come we only get the cheap stuff?"_

_The chocolate was knocked rudely from his hand, and the indignation he portrayed was entirely real. He always had suffered from a horrible sweet tooth. However, he was more angered by the treatment than the loss of the candy. Not that Zayel needed to know that._

_"I could kill you," the master growled, his deep purple veins pulsing. The demon's dark red eyes glowed fatally, "The future was in our hands–_again_– and again you have completely fouled everything up."_

_"I'm sorry?" he offered like a child who'd broken a vase._

_Zayel threw the bedside lamp against the opposite wall. It crashed loudly, shattering upon impact. The only light in the room going out._

"Well, what do we do? I can't heal demons, Chris. You know that."

_He didn't like this new host. Not that he liked needing any host. Not anymore. He wasn't some monster, some unfeeling _thing_ anymore. Now, he knew where the hosts came from. How the body he was residing in at this moment had at one point in time belonged to another being, a person with their own life– family, friends, hopes, feelings, and thoughts. He was surviving because of someone else's death._

_His new host was a teenage boy. He'd died of some disease. Marshal didn't know which one. It didn't matter. The poor boy was dead, and Marshal was stuck in his body because it was the nearest corpse in the vicinity when Zayel had destroyed the last one._

_Zayel had never destroyed one of his hosts before. Obviously losing the witch had been the last straw. Despite how badly Zayel needed him, Marshal realized his life wasn't safe._

_Not anymore._

"I know. I know. We can't just let him bleed to death on my mom's table, though."

_"The triad?" Marshal questioned, swallowing the last bite of his sandwich. "I thought they were dead."_

_"They always come back. They're like cockroaches. The important thing is, they've decided to send us on a mission. From now on, we target the whitelighter."_

_"Which one? Almost everyone in that family is a whitelighter these days. You'd think whitelighter blood was easy to come by just looking at those people. And people say demons have no respect for the rules. Sheesh. Marrying dead people and having kids with them. It's just sick."_

_"Focus or I swear to whatever darkness is listening I will send this host to the grave again and you with him."_

_"I'm listening. You're just cranky because you haven't had anything to eat."_

_"Shut up. Now."_

_Marshal forced himself to cower. "Okay."_

_"The hard part is separating her from the Halliwells, but fortunately for us, she's not exactly on the best of terms with them in this moment. So, as soon as she's alone, we strike and take her out before she has a chance to fulfill her destiny, thereby ending Lucas' life before it has a chance to start."_

_"How so?"_

_"The Triad has seen a glimpse of the future. The whitelighter is the only reason little baby Halliwell survives his first day of life."_

_"So killing her kills the baby?"_

_"Correct."_

_Marshal flashed to Bethie. It was the first day after she and their mom had come home from the hospital. His father told him to sit in a chair with his arm on the rest. Then, slowly and carefully, his dad had placed his new baby sister into his arms. The little girl was tiny, only seven pounds and small in length. Her large round eyes, still the obscure navy all babies possess at first, stared up at him, unblinking. Their eyes locked. Something pure in her gaze warmed him deeply. He loved her unconditionally from that moment on._

_A steel blade slid into the top of his stomach. He could only gasp as pain smothered him. His eyes shot up into Zayel's face._

_He knew._

_Now, Marshal was sure he was going to die._

"I think he's starting to come to."

"Maybe. . ."

_The freezing cold darkness had stretched on for days. One host. Two host. Green host. Blue host. Third one now. Third and probably last. Young lower level demon. Zayel's mistake. Probably didn't realize it when he dumped the body in the cell. Maybe he just didn't think it mattered._

__

It mattered.

Marshal knew he had to run. If he stayed, he died. Though, if he ran he could die as well. Still, mission or no, running was better than letting Zayel use him as some twisted torture toy. He couldn't help anyone if he was dead.

Zayel had gone. The Vetala didn't know where. Possibly to meet with the Triad again. Point being– it was now or never.

So, he shimmered. Hoping beyond hope he wouldn't be vanquished on sight.

000

Molly didn't think anything could shock her more than the words Chris had just uttered to her. _If you make me chose, I will chose her_. He would actually pick Casey over being with her. Well, that's how it sounded the first seconds after he had actually said it. Then, rationalization had kicked in rather than pure jealousy and hurt, and the whitelighter knew Chris wasn't really talking about choosing Casey; he was talking about choosing Lucas.

Still, the mere fact he was already so committed to future fatherhood and, by proxy, the woman responsible for putting him in the role had definitely knocked the breath from Molly's lungs momentarily.

Then, the demon happened to shimmer into the kitchen table, and Chris' speech suddenly took a backseat in the shocking department.

The young woman could only blink at first, staring at the demon currently sprawled over the now shattered table. Dark bruises covered his face and arms, bright red cuts filled the spaces the bruises missed. The demon's arm was hanging at an odd angle, which Molly knew– even on a demon– meant something had to be broken for it to hang in such an unusual way.

"I know I haven't been involved in magic as long as you," Molly started, "but a demon shimmering into the kitchen table is still weird, right?"

"C-c-aaa-sey," the demon moaned. He coughed roughly, blood splattering onto his lips. "P-pro-mised." Another bought of harsh, abrasive coughing. "H-h-heeelp."

Marshal's eyes fell shut.

"Did he just say what I think he said?"

Chris didn't answer at first. His eyes were pinned on the demon. Something about the intruder, some energy or feeling surrounding the demon was familiar to the young man, but he couldn't quite figure out why.

"I'm not trying to pick a fight, but why would Casey be working with a demon? Aren't they all pretty much evil?"

The missing piece slid into place. Chris let out a breath. "He was the kidnapper. The one who took her the day you found out about me being Lucas' dad. She said something about finding an ally against Zayel. I have to assume this is him."

Molly almost felt bad for the demon as she looked down on his broken form. "He's in bad shape."

"I think his boss found out he was playing for our team. If I'm right, and that's the case, he's lucky to be alive at all."

Chris moved to put two fingers firmly against the demon's neck, feeling for a pulse. The thud-thud of the pulse was eerily slow but steady. The witchlighter put a hand on the demon's shoulder. "Hey, stay with us, okay? Who are you? What happened?"

No response.

"Well, what do we do? I can't heal demons, Chris. You know that."

"I know. I know. We can't just let him bleed to death on my mom's table, though."

Chris looked out toward the stairs, wondering if he should get Casey and his brother's help on this. His parents weren't home yet, and the aunts had their own lives to deal with. Fact was, he needed someone's help to figure out what to do. The only problem with getting the other two witches down here was the idea of Casey and Molly in the same room again. After what had just happened he wasn't sure it was such a stellar idea just yet.

Chris waved a hand, sending the demon flying in orb lights into the other room. He gestured for Molly to follow him into the livingroom, where the demon now rested comfortably on the couch. "There's a first aid kit in the hall closet. Could you– ?"

"– Got it," Molly quickly replied, hurrying to fetch the supplies.

The witchlighter knew what he was about to do broke the rules, and would, for this very reason, end up hurting a lot, but he didn't know what else to do. Concentrating on the more major of the wounds, Chris put his hands over them, closing his eyes and trying to reach out to whatever humanity was present in the demon. He could sense the essence of a good spirit, knew it was there somewhere. He just had to hope his power would be able to heal that part of the creature.

Molly returned a moment later, getting out the gauze and antibacterial wipes. She started using the wipes to clean the cuts before finally bandaging up the demon. By the time she was done, she could start to see a golden glow forming in Chris' palms. She put her hand on top of his to contribute her power to his.

Jade eyes flicked open, surprised at the feel of her hand on his. She actually touched him voluntarily. It was a good sign.

A better one was found as the glow from his palms grew brighter and the wounds slowly started to heal.

At least before a giant shock ran through Chris, shooting him backward through the air. As he landed with a hard crash on the floor, he registered Molly gasping. When he opened his eyes she was kneeling next to him, a worried look creasing her brow.

"Are you all right? What was that?"

"It's the result of pure good magic mixing with dark magic– from the demon. Whitelighters and Elders aren't exactly meant to use their powers on evil beings."

"But he's not evil, right? Not if he wants to help you guys."

"Who knows what he is. Sometimes demons just don't like each other, and are willing to team up with us to get rid of the competition. Doesn't necessarily make them good guys."

"Then why did you heal him?"

Chris rose to his feet with her help. "Because he has information we need. Besides, enemy of my enemy is my friend. Least for now."

The whitelighter looked over to the unwelcome houseguest. "I think he's starting to come to. . ."

"Maybe. . ."

Marshal's eyes flittered open, focusing instantly on Molly. His voice was rough as he softly said, "I'm so sorry."

Molly shot a look to Chris who could only shrug. Her hazel eyes returned to the demon, the bewilderment clear. She tentatively asked, "For what exactly?"

"I killed you."

tbc. . .


	40. Getting to Know You

CHAPTER 40

**Getting to Know You**

_Eleven year old Casey Alvarez scribbled notes down into her journal. She paused, rereading what she wrote. Dissatisfied, she erased the whole thing and was about to start again when she noticed her next door neighbor come out of his house with some strange blonde girl in tow. She set her notebook on her lap and watched in curiosity as Wyatt and the girl walked hand-in-hand down the driveway, turning the corner and seemingly heading toward the park._

"_He's lost his friggin' mind," a voice muttered._

_Casey looked up to find Chris leaning against her porch rail, a moody look covering his whole face and seeping from every pore of his body. She frowned up at him. "Why this time?"_

"_Didn't you see him? He was going completely gaw-gaw over some stupid girl."_

_The girl's brown eyes shifted over to the end of the sidewalk where Wyatt was now landing a soft kiss on the other girl's lips while they waited for the traffic light to change. _

_The lead on her pencil snapped from the mechanical device holding it in place. Startled, the young writer glanced down, wondering why she'd been pressing so hard. _

"_He ditched me for her," Chris was still complaining. "We were supposed to go see the new _Griffin's Blood_ movie together. But, noooo. He wants to go play kissy with Becky Nelson. It's so disgusting. I mean, seriously, ever since his voice started to change his IQ started to drop."_

_Casey wrinkled her nose at the couple before turning her attention back to the brunet witchlighter. "He kisses her a lot?"_

"_They were making out in the livingroom until mom got back from the restaurant. Then all the sudden Wyatt decides they're going for a walk. Walk. Riiiiight."_

"_Making out?" The younger of the pair pulled a face. "Eew. Why?"_

"_This is my whole point. It's gross. And stupid."_

"_Did you see it?"_

"_Sort of. They stopped when I came down the stairs."_

_Casey set her notebook on the step next to her, leaning back on her hands. "Huh._ _It's weird."_

"_No kidding. Why would someone _do_ that?"_

"_No. I mean Wyatt must really like her. I never thought of your brother liking someone before. It's weird."_

"_How so?"_

_The girl shrugged. "He's Wyatt. I dunno."_

"_Well, trust me. She's nothing special. There's always some girl calling for him. I swear, every time the stupid phone rings it's another stupid girl calling to talk to Wyatt, and they always have the giggles. What's up with girls and giggling anyway? Just what is so funny all the time, huh?"_

_The latina quirked a brow at him. "Why would you think _I_ would know?"_

"_You're a girl."_

"_Do I giggle?"_

"_No. . ."_

"_Then– again– how would _I_ know?"_

_Chris rolled his eyes. "Whatever. Can you tell me how come it is half of them hang up as soon as I answer? Cause that's just as annoying."_

"_Probably chicken out."_

"_Stupid."_

"_Very."_

_Chris hopped the railing, plopping down next to his friend on the steps of her porch. "So, do you think we're going to get stupid like that?"_

_Casey paused to consider. Truth be told, she'd had a crush on Chris for quite some time now. She wasn't sure if it made her stupid or not. Sometimes she felt stupid in his presence, like everything she said and did was lame, but other times, she just felt better with him. Maybe, it was the second feeling that had Wyatt and the girls calling him going in circles with one another._

"_Case?"_

"_Have you ever kissed a girl?"_

"_I definitely haven't kissed a boy. . ." _

_His friend rolled her eyes. "Chris, answer the question. I mean, you would tell me, right?"_

"_Course I would, but there's never going to be anything to tell because it's a stupid thing to do. Who came up with it anyway? What made people think to start kissing one another? And worse yet– sticking their tongues in someone else's mouth? And don't even get me started on sex. Who came up with _that_? Did people just fall funny and go– 'Hey, that was fun! Let's do it again!'?"_

"_I'm thinking it's natural. You know– to make babies. Like maybe you just know how and want to when the time is right."_

_Chris cringed. "Yuck."_

"_Maybe, it's nice?"_

_The boy shot her a look._

"_If so many people do it, it must feel good, right?"_

"_People are kinda dumb."_

"_Wyatt's kissing. . ."_

"_Wyatt's kinda dumb."_

"_Then, I give up. I don't know why. It definitely doesn't _sound_ fun."_

"_I think we should do an experiment."_

_The younger witch frowned, not quite sure what he meant._

"_You're a girl."_

"_Yeah, so?"_

"_I'm a boy."_

"_I am so glad you cleared that up. Whew, must have taken some mad brain power."_

"_Shut up. I'm not done. My point is, maybe we can avoid getting stupid if we figure out why people do it in the first place. I figure we try kissing once and see what the big deal is."_

"_What about for homosexuals?"_

_Chris frowned. "Do you like girls?"_

"_Not particularly."_

"_Well, I definitely don't like guys, so I guess they have to do their own experiment. So, let's just kiss already."_

_Casey narrowed her eyes. "Okay, demon, what did you do with Chris?"_

"_Ha ha. I'm serious. If I have any chance of rescuing my brother, I need to know what I'm up against."_

_The girl considered the proposal, not sure which voice in her head to listen to. The first voice was telling her to go for it. After all, she liked Chris, and she certainly didn't want him to kiss another girl, which knowing him he would do if she said no. After all, once Chris Halliwell got an idea into his head there was no letting it go. Then, there was a second voice which said it wasn't fair to Chris to let him kiss her when she really did like him. It would be wrong somehow._

_In the end the first voice won._

"_Okay."_

"_Okay," Chris echoed. He licked his lips a little nervously before asking, "So, you ready?"_

_She nodded._

_Swallowing down the knot in her stomach, Casey closed her eyes as her best friend leaned forward and lightly brushed his lips against hers. The closeness of the moment sent a shiver down her spine, her stomach immediately flip-flopping. It lasted only a few seconds, but the feeling it gave her lingered for years._

_When she looked up, Chris was red in the cheeks, his eyes looking off to the side toward the yard. She tried to keep the pleased smile off her face as she realized it had effected him too. "So. . ."_

_Chris shrugged indifferently. "S'okay. I guess."_

_Casey nodded._

_Neither spoke for a moment, each looking at anything but each other._

_Finally, Chris broke the silence. "Wanna go see the new _Griffin's Blood_ movie?"_

"_Yeah."_

Casey wasn't sure what prompted the memory. Perhaps, it was the idea of she and Chris both so against the very concept of sex, and now, they were becoming teenage parents. After all, she'd always loved some good old fashioned irony.

More likely though was the newly remembered fact of Wyatt's popularity with the opposite sex when he was younger.For some reason, she had forgotten just how often her boyfriend used to hang out with other girls. During his mid-teenage years, she couldn't really remember him dating. If he did, he never said anything to her. Chris didn't mention it either. Usually, Wyatt was doing homework, playing football or vanquishing demons.

Perhaps that was just all she _assumed_ he did. After all, Wyatt had been pining away for her for quite a long time. There was no way, at least in her mind, he would ever bother with other girls. Not the Wyatt she knew. The Wyatt she knew would have waited oh-so-patiently for her to come to her senses because the Wyatt she knew was too good of a guy to have relationships with women he didn't care about. But, everyone knows what assumptions make people. . .

After all, he had sex with her knowing she was an emotional wreck. The Wyatt she thought she knew wouldn't have done that. Not to mention how he seemed to know his way around far better than she ever would have imagined innocent little Wyatt Matthew Halliwell to be able to. In fact, some of his 'moves' were rather impressive.

Why hadn't she thought of that before now?

Something crashed downstairs.

Casey jumped up from the bed and moved toward the door to see what was going on, and if the two other teens down there might need her help. However, just as her hand touched the knob, she realized just what a bad idea her going down there might be. After all, one of the other people was Molly, who had made it quite clear how much she did not want to see Casey ever again. The last thing Chris would need if a demon was downstairs was to worry about the two women in his life fighting and putting all their lives in danger– especially with his pregnant friend having a new power to deal with. She could accidentally hurt Chris or Molly.

Besides, it wasn't just her anymore. Going down there might mean putting the baby in danger.

She listened for further sounds.

Nothing.

If Chris needed help, he would have called for her. Or, there would have been more crashes. Neither of those sounds hit her ears, so it seemed her friend had everything under control for now.

"What'cha doin'?"

Casey jumped at the voice, spinning quickly around to find Wyatt watching her with a smirk on his handsome face. She narrowed her eyes at him, wrinkling her nose. "Not fair. You should let a poor girl know before you orb in on her."

"I assumed you'd realize it was me," he retaliated.

"You know what they say about assuming things."

Wyatt smiled. "Should have seen that coming. In any case, Sam's fine. I only gave him enough dust to make him forget about being in your room. Magic seemed to clean the rest up. I have a feeling he'll remember what he learned, but not why."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I sensed something different in him. . .I think he was more comfortable with himself. His emotions didn't hurt my head for once."

"That's a good sign."

"I thought so. I guess only time will tell if he's really changed at all or not."

Casey shoved her hands in her back pockets, rocking back on her feet. "Now that's been taken care of, I suppose we should have that conversation you wanted to have, huh?"

"Expectations, ground rules and rosters."

"Right," Casey confirmed. "That one. I figure the sooner we get it over with the better, right?"

"Sure. Yeah, I completely agree. And we might as well go in that order right? Expectations first. I guess for me, I just want honesty– no matter how ugly the truth really is. And, maybe for you to start thinking about coming to me with stuff."

His girlfriend frowned, folding her arms over her chest. "Wyatt, I already do."

"Not always," he argued. "A lot of times you tell Chris, and I have to find out from him. I get he's your best friend and all, but if you could just maybe at least start to tell me the same things too, I think things will go more smoothly than if not."

"Okay," she conceded. "I can see your point. I will try to start coming to you first. Unless it's about the baby because then I think Chris has the right to know things first."

"Agreed. A little sucky for me, but it's only right."

"Oh, and no orbing in on me unannounced."

"Deal. Another for me would be no talking to Chris about the more intimate details of our relationship. That's just too awkward."

"Couldn't agree more, and I think we should try not to complain to him about each other because it would put him in a weird place."

"Right. I think I hit all my big ones. What about you? Any others?"

Casey fidgeted, shifting on the balls of her feet.

"What? Just tell me."

"Is it okay if I control how fast the physical stuff happens? It's just with everything that's happened I really want the next time we're together to be absolutely _right_. I want to be super sure I'm ready."

Wyatt smiled softly, brushing the hair gently back behind her ear. "Of course. I understand. Consider yourself the boss in that department. I'll wait however long you need me to."

"Thank you."

"So, now we've pretty much covered the rules and expectations I guess that just leaves the rosters. . ."

Casey bit her lip, looking off to the side. She shoved her hands into her back pockets again as she nodded nervously. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Maybe you should sit down."

"Sit down? Is it really that bad?"

Wyatt guided her over to the edge of the bed, taking a seat next to her on it. He smiled unsurely at her. "So, what's your number?"

Noticing he had avoided her question, Casey still answered, "Three."

"Including me?"

"Mhmm. Sam was my first, then Chris, then you. Three. You seem surprised."

Wyatt shrugged. "I just thought there might have been some hunky latin guy while you were in Puerto Rico. It was a whole year."

"Contrary to my behavior since coming back, I don't take sex lightly. I only sleep with guys I'm in love with."

"Or me," the young man added, guilt coloring his voice.

Casey took his hand, her eyes soft as she looked up into his face. "I loved you, Wyatt."

"But you weren't _in_ love with me."

She didn't have an answer for him. Instead, she cleared her throat and quickly added, "So anywho, that's my list. There wasn't anyone while I was gone, so I guess you already knew everyone I've been with. How about you? What's your number?"

"You were lucky thirteen."

The young woman's eyebrows couldn't help but rise. "Thirteen. . .? Thir– . . .wow. That's. . .I didn't. . .wow."

Wyatt ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long breath. "Yeah. I didn't think you'd be too happy about that, but I also figured you have a right to know now we're together."

Casey stared at the green comforter on the bed, her brain not quite locking in the information yet.

Her silence unnerved the Twice Blessed, who swallowed anxiously. "Most of them you wouldn't know. Girls from college, couple from another country. . ."

"Different country?"she managed to squeak.

"I'm not proud of it, but two were charges, Lu Xiang and Gigi Batolli. Witches I'd saved who wanted to thank me."

"Some thank you."

Wyatt's face flushed at the words. "I said I wasn't proud of it. . ."

Casey let out a breath, forcing a small smile. "Sorry. It's just so. . .unexpected. I'm not judging though. Let's face it, who am I to judge anyone at this point? Especially you. I'm carrying your kid brother's child. Anything you've done is small fries in comparison. So, these girls from college. . .?"

"Four."

"You've only been there a semester."

"Lots of parties, especially after big football games. A few drinks, some dancing– "

"– I get the point."

"Anyway, there was a girl in my political science class, Lacey Miller; a cheerleader, Megan Landiis; the quarterback's sister, Lisa Benning; and some girl named Marcy. None of them really meant anything. They were pretty much one nighters. Not sure if that helps or hurts your opinion of me."

"Neither," his girlfriend comforted him. She took a deep breath. "That's seven so far, including me. Who else?"

"Last summer there were two– one I met at the park and had a few dates with. Her name was Sara Frahm. I liked her a lot, but she ended up getting back together with an old flame. Before her was Nicki Jones, which was actually the result of empathy gone wrong."

"Empathy gone wrong?"

"I worked with her, and my empathy was giving me some trouble last summer because her emotional barriers, the ones everyone is supposed to have, were non-existent, so no matter how hard I tried I couldn't _not_ feel what she felt, and unfortunately, she usually felt a bit. . ."

"Turned on?"

"That's a much better way of putting it. Yeah. So, that's how that happened."

Casey rubbed her upper arms, trying to process everything she was being told. For whatever reason, listening to Wyatt list off the women he'd been with was causing her to grow cold and her stomach to twist, nausea starting to set in. It took her a while to realize what was causing it. Then, she finally knew— she was jealous.

"During my senior year, there was my prom date, Amber Crider. Nice enough girl. Went on a few dates with her, but she was just way too clingy. Before her was the basketball player, Taylor Michelson."

"You had sex with Taylor? But, hasn't she been dating Cory Hanson for years?"

Wyatt couldn't look in her in the eyes.

"No. Wyatt, you didn't. . ."

"She caught him getting rather physical with a certain Sara Burnheart during a Halloween party. I had a few too many to drink, and she knew it. So, she used me to get back at him. I let her. Back then I really didn't care who it was with."

"Why? I mean, in everything else you're so cautious and sensitive and just an all around good guy, so why did you go through partners like that? It seems so out of character."

The Twice Blessed let out a breath. "It's complicated."

"Try me."

"I'm the Twice Blessed Witch," he started. "Most powerful witch ever. I'm destined to rule the entire magical community as the new Arthur. I'm the oldest son of the eldest Charmed One. I'm Chris' big brother and a role model for him and all the cousins. I guess, sometimes it all gets to be too much. Like I'm not even human anymore."

Casey put a hand on his knee, her eyes shining as she began to see yet another layer to the young man.

"I don't talk about it much," Wyatt continued, "the whole all powerful thing. Sometimes, it scares me, though. I could do pretty much anything by the time I was a year old. I have always had all these powers, and when I was little it didn't seem like a big deal. Magic was still a game. It's not anymore. I know things I shouldn't know. I feel things I shouldn't have to feel."

"What do you mean?"

"I've been an empath and telepath since I was little. I didn't always know how to control it. It matures a person, feeling adult emotions and hearing adult thoughts. Sometimes, it's still hard to ignore some of them– like with Nicki. I mean, did you know that at any given moment, if I tried, I could pick up on someone's thoughts on the other side of the planet? It's like being omniscient. And that kind of power scares the daylights out of me."

"Because you don't feel human?"

Wyatt nodded confirmation. His eyes finally lifted back to hers. "It's hard to stay grounded sometimes. Sex is the one time I feel like a regular guy. It's just me and the woman and nothing else exists. No other thoughts, feelings– no other concerns. It's primal– about the physical and the moment. It's as natural as I ever feel."

His girlfriend put her hand up to the side of his face, touching him gently, her thumb running lightly across his jaw line. She smiled softly as he closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. "You're a regular man, Wyatt Halliwell. It took me a while to see it, but I do now."

Electric blue eyes opened. He turned his head just enough to land a feather light kiss on the palm of her hand. "Thank you."

Casey smirked, pulling back her hand. "Okay, now that's been cleared up, I do believe you still have two more women to confess to. I know one was Sam."

Wyatt laughed lightly. "Yeah, what a great first time that was. What guy doesn't love it when the first woman you were ever with tells you the next morning she thinks she's a lesbian?"

"I take it you still haven't told Chris about that one?"

"Nope, and not gonna. Samantha said she wouldn't either."

"You realize you're the only person on the planet to still call her Samantha."

"It ticks her off."

"Still haven't quite forgiven her I see."

"I have. My ego hasn't."

Casey leaned back on the bed. "So, final one. Who was the lucky lady?"

Wyatt grew unnaturally quiet.

The young woman next to him frowned. "What? Come on, Halliwell, how much worse could it get? You slept with twelve other women, and one of them was a lesbian. Don't tell me the last one was actually a guy?"

"No. I almost think you'd prefer that."

"Wyatt?"

He turned to look at her, his brow creased, eyes pooled with worry. "You're going to hate me for this one. It happened right after I found out about you and Chris. I was really angry and jealous and just not myself."

"Understandable. Though, honestly, Wyatt, who could be so bad? You look like I'm going to hit you once you tell me."

"You might."

"Need I remind you of our current situation? I don't really have a right to."

The Twice Blessed took a deep breath before confessing, "I slept with Valerie."

000

_Marshal's eyes flittered open, focusing instantly on Molly. His voice was rough as he softly said, "I'm so sorry."_

_Molly shot a look to Chris who could only shrug. Her hazel eyes returned to the demon, the bewilderment clear. She tentatively asked, "For what exactly?"_

"_I killed you."_

The words had barely left the demon's throat when Marshal's body was thrown by an invisible hand into the grandfather clock. As the barely healed body collided with the timepiece, the chimes rang out in time to Molly's gasp. The old war-worn heirloom shattered in the familiar way it tended to in the presence of a Halliwell.

"You son of a bitch," Chris growled, his eyes striking ice into the heart of the demon. "I vanquished you. How are you still alive?"

"You didn't vanquish me. You vanquished the evil keeping me prisoner in this limbo like existence. Zayel hid my remains, kept me trapped here against my will, separating me from my family after he. . .after he murdered them. He drove me insane, turning me into a Vetala. You vanquished the Vetala, but my spirit is still trapped here until I complete my unfinished business."

"This is me really not giving a damn about you and your sob story." The witch raised a hand, slowly closing it into a fist, watching in blind rage as the being slumped on the floor started choking, hands flying up to his neck as his eyes bulged in panic.

"Chris, stop," Molly breathed.

Chris didn't.

The whitelighter stepped in front of her boyfriend, taking his hands and locking her calm gaze on his fury filled one. When his eyes finally lightened of the thunder clouds, she smiled faintly. "It's okay."

"This is all his fault," Chris answered lowly. "Everything that happened to us. . .to you. . ."

"He's not evil," Molly replied softly. "I felt it. Even when he was killing me, I knew something good was inside of him. Just trapped and confused."

"But he killed you," the witchlighter choked out. "He took you from me. From Bryan and your Mom. He stole you away and everything went to hell after that."

His girlfriend put a hand to his face, touching him in the most intimate manner she had since returning. Her hazel eyes remained steady on his jade. "Not everything. Besides, Chris, it wasn't him. I know it wasn't. It was Zayel. He did this to him. Made him something twisted, but I swear, he was as gentle as he could be considering. And he felt so. . .reluctant, almost sorry even then."

Marshal pushed himself to a sitting position, resting his back against the broken clock. "I didn't know what I was doing then. I was a monster– Zayel's pet project. I wish I could have fought through it, stopped myself from doing the things I did, but I couldn't anymore than I can take it back now. I can help you though. If you let me, I can tell you everything I know about Zayel, and maybe, with a little teamwork we can kill him– stop him from hurting anyone else."

Chris took a breath, his eyes still on Molly's sweet face. "You really believe him?"

"I do."

The young man shook his head, clearly struggling with the idea. After a moment, he relented. "Fine. I won't vanquish him– Yet." He turned to the demon, "You give me even half a reason to though. . ."

"Understood."

"Tell me what you know. All of it," Chris ordered.

Marshal nodded, gathering his scrambled thoughts in an attempt to categorize them, keep them as organized and logical as possible. It wasn't easy for him in his rapidly declining condition. "He turned me into this monster in order to use one of the powers of a Vetala against Casey– more specifically on your son."

"What power?"

"The power to cause a miscarriage."

The room began to shake slightly.

Molly frowned, not sure what was causing it, thinking it was perhaps a small tremor of an earthquake. Then she saw Chris clenching and unclenching his hands, and knew it wasn't the earth shaking– it was Chris' temper. She put a hand on his arm to calm him.

The shaking stopped.

"The child is a threat to demons. Something he does or comes up with in the future eradicates the demonic threat– not completely– that's just not possible. But, it definitely brings a long, peaceful period to the world by destroying the more powerful evils. Zayel saw the future and knew this. He wants nothing more than to prevent it from happening, so he wants to kill the child– preferably before it's born as he will be at his most vulnerable."

"But, he knows you're not playing for team evil anymore, right?" Chris questioned.

"Right."

"So the plan has been pretty much shot all to hell."

"No."

"No?"

"Just because he can't use my power to do it doesn't mean he won't find someone else with the ability, or do whatever he can to make it happen. She and the child are on every demon's radar because they know this baby will mean either annihilation or complete subjugation to good. And that's not all."

"Of course not."

"Something happens the day the child is born. I don't know what; Zayel didn't tell me more than he had to. I do know this much, though– Molly, here, is your son's only hope that day."

Molly's eyes grew wide as the color dripped from her face. "Me? But, I don't know anything. I don't have a lot of powers, and the ones I do have I barely control. I don't even know the first thing about babies."

"I don't know the details," Marshal repeated, "and they don't matter. What matters is how it puts you in danger."

"How?" Chris sharply questioned.

"The Triad wants her dead."

"Triad?" Chris repeated, not believing his ears. "As in _the_ Triad?"

Marshal's eyes flicked down, his mouth opening in panic. "They know."

"Who knows what?" Molly asked.

"I have to hide," the demon anxiously announced. "I'll be in touch."

In a matter of moments, the demon disappeared from the floor in a ripple of air.

The front door opened, Leo's laugh ringing through the manor. "Piper does the exact same thing," he was saying.

"Halliwell women, huh?" Andy's voice replied full of mirth.

The two men stopped as they saw the remnants of the grandfather clock. Both shared a worried look before cautiously entering the livingroom to find Chris and Molly staring at the spot the grandfather clock was supposed to be standing in.

"Demon?" Leo asked.

"Yeah," Chris replied.

"Anyone hurt?" Andy questioned.

Molly shook her head.

"Did you have to use the clock?" Leo tiredly bemoaned. "And I thought your brother was home. Where is he?"

"Upstairs calming down Case. The demon wasn't a problem. His news is."

"News?" Andy repeated. "Do you often take information from demons?"

"Don't even go there," Leo advised his new friend. Turning back to his son, "So, what did he say?"

"Dad, is it possible for the Triad to be back?"

Leo's face seemed to darken immediately.

"I'll the look of horror and fear as a yes."

Andy looked to Leo who gave a nod. In a matter of moments the whitelighter went up in a swirl of orb lights.

"Where'd he go?" Molly asked.

His face still somber, the father answered, "To gather the troops. War has just been declared."

tbc. . .


	41. Still the One

Dedicated to the Molly/Chris fans everywhere. They're baaaaack.

CHAPTER 41

**Still the One**

Prue Halliwell was at the helm of the Book of Shadows, furiously flipping through the pages, trying to find all the notes and research she'd put into it covering the Triad so many years ago. When she finally found the right pages, her frosty grey eyes made quick work of her notes, refreshing her mind on everything she had discovered when she and her sisters had first came upon the mysterious force of evil.

Casey and Piper were busy brewing the potion the Charmed Ones had used the last time they were up against the evil trio. While Piper let the younger witch stir the potion and wait for it to heat and turn to the correct color, she glanced up at her youngest son, who was currently sitting with his girlfriend on the sofa, an arm wrapped protectively around the too pale whitelighter.

"Don't worry, Molly," the mother comforted, "we've vanquished them before, and we will again. No one is going to hurt you."

Casey turned to grab an armful of empty potion vials. When she turned around and set them on the table, she couldn't help but notice how vulnerable and scared Molly looked. She gave a thin lined smile of sympathy, which Molly either didn't see or ignored.

Wyatt and Phoebe walked into the attic, the same frustration marking both their faces.

The middle Charmed One was the one to explain their dour looks. "Nothing. We touched the blood stains, the shards from the clock, every stupid thing we could think of to touch, and the only premonitions I could get were about Chris' new demon friend, and let me tell you, they were not fun to see. I never thought I would feel bad for a demon again, but what he went through. . .I wouldn't wish it even on a demon. Poor Wyatt couldn't pick up on anything."

"Is Paige back yet?" the Twice Blessed asked.

"No," Leo answered from his place in the arm chair, his nose in an old tome. "The Elders must be deliberating."

"On what?" Chris asked. "Find Triad. Vanquish Triad. It's pretty black and white."

Andy turned from the window, his arms folded over his chest. "Nothing about the Triad is going to be that simple, Chris. These demons re-manifest over and over. So far, no one has been able to kill these guys for good."

"But we can kill them for a good space of time," Chris countered. "Let's do that and worry about forever later."

Piper smirked, finally starting to fill vials with her newly brewed potion. "Son after my own heart."

"We don't know where to find them, though," Phoebe pointed out. "My premonitions weren't exactly helpful."

Prue slammed shut the book. "Or my notes. The only person who really knew how to find them was Cole, and he's long gone. Until they come after us, we have nothing to go on, especially since the demon didn't have any leads to give us."

"I'm sure the Elders won't know anything useful either," Piper added bitterly. "They never do."

"They know things," Andy contradicted. "They just take forever deciding whether or not to _do_ anything. They aren't exactly beings of action."

"So," Chris pressed, "what's the plan, people? We have to do something."

For the first time since the bomb on her coveted head had been dropped, Molly spoke up. "I think we should do nothing."

"Excuse me?" her boyfriend questioned.

Hazel eyes slowly lifted up through thick black lashes to meet her boyfriend's jade pair. "If the only way to find them is to draw them out into the open, then maybe we should pretend we don't know they're back. Let them come after me."

"No. No freaking way."

Wyatt softly cleared his throat, running a hand through his blond locks. "Chris. . .she has a point. . ."

The phrase 'if looks could kill' was coined for the lethal glimmer that appeared in Chris' eyes as soon as the words had left his older brother's mouth.

The Twice Blessed looked away, recognizing the brick wall just constructed in the communication line between him and his brother. Any attempt to knock it down could potentially result in permanent damage.

"Chris, it's my life," Molly picked up. "They want me. If you go after them now, you could actually put me in more danger than letting them think they have the upper hand."

Prue, pleased with where her charge was leading her nephew, added, "She's right. If we make a move, and it doesn't work, we'll have lost all advantage. At least this way, we'll know it's coming, and will be able to keep her safe while still preparing to find and vanquish the Triad."

Bright orbs swirled into the room forming into a fuming Paige Matthews. The youngest Charmed One stood, arms folded, her head slightly tilted upward as she glared at the ceiling. "And thanks again," she yelled to the heavens.

"I take it your meeting with the Elders went well?" Piper dryly remarked.

Paige pulled a face before answering, "No, as a matter of fact it did not. Because _some_ people aren't willing to believe what we tell them."

"Wait, they don't believe the Triad is really back?" Wyatt questioned.

"Apparently, the all knowing ones haven't sensed them yet," Paige answered, rolling her eyes. "They think the demon lied, and instead of checking into it, they're going to meditate on it."

Phoebe frowned. "Meditate on it? Are you serious?"

"Sounds like the Elders," Prue and Andy both muttered.

The Middle Charmed One smiled widely. "Aw, that was so cute. Just like the old days. . ."

"Phoebe," Prue warned while Andy blushed.

The younger woman merely shrugged. "Just saying."

"Well, for now," Piper redirected, "I have to agree with Molly. I don't like the idea of using you as bait, Molly, but at least it's better than going in blind. This way they have to come into our territory, and with a few of these," she wiggled the vials in her hands, "no demons they send here will last too long if they don't cooperate."

"Setting a trap seems a whole lot smarter than being caught in one," Paige agreed.

"Except we don't know when they're going to attack Molly or how," Chris argued. "It's too risky. We're not doing it."

Molly folded her arms over her chest, setting her jaw. "Oh, is that so? Chris, it's ultimately my decision."

"I know that."

"So I want to do it this way. It's smarter."

"But not safer."

"And running around in the underworld hunting three really powerful demons would be?"

"At least it wouldn't be you."

Molly paused, catching the hint of desperation in his voice. Her eyes flickered over to the young man's parents who were both wearing identical looks of sympathy directed at their son. She then glanced over to Wyatt, who was already moving to put a hand on his brother's shoulder.

She understood then.

"I'm not going to die, Chris," she quietly offered. "I'm surrounded by powerful witches and whitelighters. Plus, we've been warned. We're prepared."

The soft green eyes of her lover faltered, shimmering. "I don't ever want to go to another funeral for you. I _can't_."

His loved one felt her chest constrict painfully at the raw emotion emanating from his voice. She went up on her tiptoes to land a feather light kiss on his lips. After their first kiss in an agonizingly long while, her arms immediately wrapped around his neck, pulling him into a tight embrace as she whispered into his ear, "I'm not going anywhere. I love you too much to let anyone or anything else tear us apart like that again."

With a rough, almost choked voice, Chris begged, "Promise."

She pulled back, smiling gently while brushing the chestnut bangs from his eyes. "I swear."

The brunet witchlighter nodded, licking his lips while shoving his hands into his pockets. "Okay. Then I guess we wait."

Piper immediately started handing out the vials of potion she had made. "Everyone, carry these with you at all times. These bad boys will vanquish the Source himself if they have to. Paige, keep at the Elders. Make sure they know we mean business, and if they want us to keep being their magical lap dogs, they need to have more faith in what we tell them."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm on it, Lady."

"Leo, don't give up looking through your resources at Magic School. The more we know about Zayel, the Triad and any prophecy regarding our future grandson, the more prepared we'll be for this fight."

Leo turned to his new best friend. "Andy, could I get a lift?"

"Sure. Why not?"

The ex-detective gave a quick kiss on the cheek to his sometimes girlfriend before moving to Leo's side. He placed a hand on the former Elder's shoulder just as the two men became swirls of vibrant white light, tornadoing up through the ceiling."

Piper turned to the older of her younger sisters. "Phoebe, you're on vision duty. Potions, meditation, I don't care what you need to do. We need some clues, and you're our demonic yellow pages."

"I might try going on a vision quest," Phoebe suggested. "It's one sure fire way to get some answers."

"Good. Do it."

"Wow, Piper," Prue remarked. "You've really taken the reins and run with them, huh? I never pictured you as the take charge, commanding type."

The longer haired brunette smirked. "You left some pretty big shoes to fill, and there just wasn't anyone else to fill them at the time."

Prue lowered her eyes, allowing a proud smile to grace her lips. "Yeah, well, you seem to have done pretty well in your role as fearless leader."

"Not as well as some," Piper deliberately emphasized, her wise brown eyes focused directly on her big sister.

The former Charmed One tried not to blush, uncomfortable with the compliment, but happy to receive it nonetheless. She pushed her black hair behind her ears before clearing her throat and changing the subject. "So, I figure I can help Paige try to white light a fire under the Elders' butts, and maybe, do some more investigating of my own."

"Good luck with that."

"Thanks," Prue remarked before turning to her baby sister. "You ready, Sis?"

Paige smiled fondly at the new term of endearment from her eldest sibling. "Always."

The black haired whitelighter and the female witchlighter simultaneously erupted into orb lights, flying through the air toward the great 'up there'.

Piper gave a satisfied nod at the ceiling before grabbing the Book of Shadows and heading toward the door of the attic.

"Where are you going?" Wyatt asked.

"Kitchen. The potions I gave out are kill all. I want to make some other types to have on hand as well– explosion, burning, smoke screen, paralyzing– you know, the usual goodies. That way, once the Triad sends their moronic minion we can use these potions to wound without killing, and hopefully, get some info out of them."

"Need a hand?" Casey offered.

Piper gave a look to her sons before mysteriously replying, "I think you have other things to worry about right now."

As the Charmed One disappeared out of the attic, Casey turned nervously to Molly, wondering whether she should stay or go. When the other woman didn't say anything, the witch started moving toward the door, imagining her presence was still unwanted.

Wyatt started to follow her out until Molly put a hand on his arm stopping him from going. He frowned down at her not sure what she was doing.

"Wait," Molly called after the other woman. "Don't go yet."

Casey froze near the door. Anxious and unsure, she turned to face the other woman.

"Thank you for your help on this," Molly offered a verbal olive branch. "The potions and everything, I mean. I know you and Wyatt were busy when Chris came and got you."

"It's no problem. You saved my life. I owe you a lot more than a few potions."

"I'm not going to lie and say we should be best friends now. To be honest, I still don't like you," Molly continued, wanting to make herself completely understood. "But maybe, I can learn to at least get along with you in the spirit of working together. So, I guess, what I am trying to get out is that I'm sorry for what I said downstairs."

Wyatt slid a look to Chris, who was smiling proudly at his girlfriend. The Twice Blessed understood then, and let his own lips turn up.

Casey nodded acceptance. "That's fair. More than."

"Okay then."

"Okay."

Chris jogged over to Casey's side just before the other witch left. He whispered to her, "Something wrong with you and Wy? You seemed really upset when I got you."

"It's fine."

The brunet raised a skeptical brow.

"I'll deal."

"You're pregnant. You need calm, so if he's– "

"– _Me dejas en paz_. Or I will kick your ass."

"Leave you in fish?"

"Peace, Chris. _Pez _is fish."

"Oh. Right. Knew that."

"I'll talk to you later, kay?"

"Kay."

Casey offered another small smile to Molly before exiting the room, Wyatt following after her. After jogging down the stairs, she turned immediately into Chris' room, and flopped tiredly onto the bed, one arm falling over her eyes. For some reason she felt completely drained, and all she wanted was just to lay down for a minute.

"I'm sorry."

As she removed the limb from her eyes, Casey wasn't even remotely surprised to find Wyatt leaning against the doorframe looking like a kicked puppy.

"I'm sorry," he repeated.

"I heard you the first time. Question is– For what?"

He shrugged vaguely. "Valerie."

Casey ignored the sharp twist in her stomach at the thought. Swallowing down the jealousy and nausea, the young woman replied, "It's in the past."

"It affects the present."

Casey sat up, studying her boyfriend carefully. "Do you still want her?"

"God, no. I didn't then. It was immature payback. Only, when it was done, I realized how stupid it was, which is why I never told you before. I told you now because Chris said she's been giving you guys a hard time, and when she finds out we're together, she's going to use it against you. I wanted to tell you before that happened."

"Okay."

Wyatt frowned. "Okay? That's it? That's all you're going to say?"

"Honestly, Wyatt, I really don't want to talk about it. Or think about it. So, I'm going to try to take a page out of your book and let it be. What's happened happened. I can't change it, and getting mad at you about it isn't fair. We weren't together then. You were free to do whatever and whoever you wanted. Besides, what I did is still worse. The person is of much higher quality, but it has to hurt you more than your being with Valerie hurts me."

"So, we're all right?"

Casey patted the spot on the bed next to her.

Wyatt slowly approached, taking his place in the designated area.

His girlfriend laid her head on his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him. "We're all right. Just don't ever ever ever mention it again or my head may actually explode."

"You're jealous."

Casey lifted her big brown eyes up to his blue. "I suppose so. Is that a bad thing?"

Wyatt shook his head. Lightly kissing her, he then guided them both backward onto the bed. As he held himself up over her, he asked, "Is it okay if we make out like a couple of pre-teens on their first date?"

"What about the demon?"

"Not really much to do about it right now. So. . .make out session?" He wiggled his brows playfully at her, reminding her of the boy he used to be rather than the man he was destined to become.

Casey laughed. "What the hell. I'm game."

She pulled him back down to her, and the two erased a few of their problems with some fun and games.

Meanwhile, back up in the attic. . .

"Thank you for doing that," Chris said, turning around to face Molly after Wyatt and Casey had gone. "I know it wasn't easy for you to do."

Molly plopped back down on the sofa, staring at the floorboards. "I realized something during the whole the-Triad-wants-to-kill-me part of the night's festivities. I have a bigger destiny than I realized, and I think it may be the key to putting us back together."

Chris sat down on the arm of the sofa while he listened to his girlfriend's epiphany.

"It was something my futureself told me. I hadn't really understood, or even listened quite yet. Then, the demon said that thing about me being the baby's only hope, and it just sort of clicked in my head, you know?"

"No, not really."

Molly bit the corner of her mouth, trying to finish working it out before articulating her thought. "My futureself said something to me– my greatest joy would spring from my greatest pain. She was talking about your son, Chris. Your affair with Casey. . .it eats me up inside. I've never felt so awful before. I never wanted to get out of bed. I just wanted to lie there with the covers over my head and never get up, but now, I know what I can look forward to– your baby boy. A tiny version of you, only innocent and helpless, who I was chosen to guide and protect and love."

"I may seem like I have all the answers," Chris started, hands in his lap, "that I'm confident about all this. I'm not. What I said downstairs to you before all this happened was true. I wouldn't wish my son away, but at the same time the thought of having a son– even just saying the word– makes my head spin and my stomach turn to knots. Mol, if I let myself be honest about this– I'm terrified. All I know is I can't do this on my own."

Molly put a hand on his knee. "And you'll never have to. That's just my point. This was all meant to happen. I get it now. Lucky was meant to exist, and I think maybe, he'll even manage to bring us closer together in the end."

"How?"

"You said it yourself, you can't do this on your own. I want to help you. I want to become the woman who visited our present and seemed to be so close with Lucas."

"You mean that?"

The whitelighter nodded, her eyes glowing happily. "I really do."

"You amaze me more every day," Chris stated, amazed. Leaning down, he brushed the hair gently from her face while landing a gentle kiss on her awaiting lips. When they parted, still only inches between their faces, Chris stared into her rich hazel eyes. "I love you."

Her face lit up like it used to before chaos hit their lives, Molly responded, "I love you too, which is why I'm going to love your son so much."

Chris slid off the arm of the chair to fit in the space between it and his girlfriend. He then slipped his arm around her, his hand falling into place at the small of her back while his other palm went to cradle her face. Their lips met again a moment later, soft but passionate.

Molly suddenly pulled back, her eyes large. "I've missed this. You. Us."

"Me too."

"I have a confession to make, but I don't want you to freak out."

"I won't."

The whitelighter lowered her eyes. "I'm scared. I want to do this– trap the Triad, I mean. It seems like the best idea too. It's just. . .I'm scared."

The young man pulled her to him, holding her close against him. "I won't let anything or anyone hurt you, Molly. Never again."

tbc. . .


	42. Somebody To Lean On

CHAPTER 42

Somebody To Lean On

Time as it is so fond of doing had gone by. Five days nine hours forty-three minutes and twenty-eight, no, make that twenty-nine seconds. Chris was keeping very precise time. Mostly because by this point he'd started to lose any sort of calm he'd possessed. The reason was because every where he went the Triad lurked in the shadows. Every moment was a moment he held baited breath waiting for some attack or news from his precarious ally. Being on continuous high alert for five days, nine hours, forty-three minutes and (now) thirty-five seconds was enough to drive anyone to become a bit. . .undone.

Why hadn't the Triad made their move yet? Where was Marshall with the news? Was Marshall still alive? When was the Triad going to attack? Had they changed their minds? Do demons ever change their minds?

The elders as usual were no use. Neither of his aunts, Prue or Paige, could move them into any sort of action. The all knowing ones were blissfully ignorant of the coming war, and apparently, planned on remaining so. Meanwhile, his father had gone through nearly all the books in Magic school regarding the ancient trio of evil, and nothing new had been discovered about how to summon or find them. Phoebe's vision quest had been a bust as well. Though, she had seen something, the middle Charmed One said it wasn't about the Triad. She refused to say what it had been about though, yet her squirrelly behavior ever since was telling of something decidedly not good.

So, in some attempt to remain on top of the situation, Chris was planted up in the attic immediately after school on this fine Tuesday, flipping through the Book, and trying to figure out whether there was a way to amplify the scrying crystal to reach the underworld. Waiting for the Triad to make the first move wasn't going well, so offense was becoming more and more appealing.

Orb lights flittered down through the ceiling taking the form of Molly, who was wearing a light green sweater and dark wash jeans, her curly hair in a messy ponytail. "Hey, you."

Chris looked up from the book, a small grin forming. "I see you're really getting the hang of the whole orbing thing."

"It's fun. I always did like it. It's just better now that I can do it myself. Like flying without a plane. And I even sensed you here in the attic. Pretty specific don't you think?"

The young man broke out into a light-filled smile at her enthusiasm. "You're doing great."

"I figure I don't have that long to master everything, so I better keep practicing."

Chris closed the cover on the tome, giving up for now. He frowned as his brain caught up with his ears, and he realized what she had said. "Wait, what do you mean you don't have a lot of time?"

"I have to be ready for Lucas. So, really, I have less than a year to become the best whitelighter ever."

Chris moved toward her, taking her shoulders gently and caressing her lips with his own. He pulled back and swept her bangs from her face. "You're going to be perfect. For once, I think the Elders made the right call. I couldn't ask for anyone better to look after my son."

Molly noticed a strange look cross his eyes. "What? What is it?"

"My son." Chris shivered. "It just. . .it's hard to get used to. I don't feel like it's real yet. I met him, and he's awesome, and I love him. I really do. At the same time, I'm still a kid myself, so how can I possibly be a Dad?"

His girlfriend shrugged. "I don't know, Chris. I wish I could say some words of encouragement, but I don't have any. I know this though: You are going to do everything in your power to do right by him, and I think that counts for a whole lot. It's certainly more than my father ever did for me."

As her hazel eyes dropped to the floor, Molly felt her boyfriend pull her into an embrace. She smiled at his compassion, relishing the warmth of his arms around her.

"Your father was a jerk, who couldn't appreciate what a great woman he had, and what an even more amazing daughter he brought into the world," Chris stated firmly.

Molly went up on her tiptoes and kissed the witchlighter. "Thank you for saying so."

Chris grinned mischievously, his arms sliding around her waist. "Well, if you really want to thank me. . ."

The young man pulled her backward toward the sofa, the two of them laughing as they landed with a thud on the old couch. Though, with his bright jade eyes staring up into her gentle hazel, the laughter was soon replaced with needful kisses and hot hands.

A cough from the door interrupted the afternoon romp on the sofa.

Chris looked up from his making out to find Wyatt standing with his arms folded over his chest in the doorway. The younger of the brothers frowned, highly annoyed at being interrupted during a private moment. However, the dark look on his older brother's face told him whatever it was had to be important. "Wy, what is it?"

"It's Tuesday," Wyatt said, as though that should clear up the whole thing.

"And?"

"The doctor's appointment. . ."

The light clicked on in Chris' mind. All air slipped out of him, his eyes going wide. "Shit."

Molly frowned, turning to her boyfriend. "What? What doctor's appointment?"

Chris looked sheepish as he answered, "For the baby."

To his surprise, his girlfriend didn't seemed bothered in the least. "The first appointment? That's so exciting. You better get going."

The young man let out a breath, not nearly as enthusiastic about going as Molly seemed to be about it. Sitting back up on the sofa and rising to his feet, Chris shoved his hands into his pockets and regarded Wyatt with total resignation to the situation. "So, the doctor's. . .where is it again?"

"Family planning clinic. On fourth and main. You were supposed to meet Casey there right after school. She called your cell three times– it was beeping like crazy when I got to my room."

"Shit."

"Yup."

"She's going to kill me."

"Pretty much."

"Are you coming?"

"Why would I come?"

Chris shrugged vaguely. "I don't know. You're the boyfriend now. I thought you might have to come too. Moral support or something."

Wyatt's eyes darkened slightly, but his facial expression remained the same. "It's not my place to be there." After a slight pause the clouds in his sky blue eyes lifted, and he grinned. "It's just my job to make sure my irresponsible kid brother _is_ there."

"Well, job well done," Chris replied. To Molly, "I guess I should be going, huh?"

"Probably."

"Wyatt, would you mind watching after her till I get back? Just in case?"

"She'll be perfectly safe with me," Wyatt answered, winking at Molly. "After all, how could I let a girl who used to have a crush on me fall into bad hands?"

Chris did a double take. "What?"

Molly covered her mouth to keep from letting her smile show, but Chris saw nonetheless.

"You had a thing for. . .? Are you kidding me?"

"Nope. That's why she asked me to prom before I got you to take her. She even said I have a nice butt."

Chris, green with jealousy already, turned to Molly. "You looked at my brother's butt?"

"You have very similar glutes."

The younger witchlighter shook his head, shocked. "I can't believe this."

"You really should get going," Wyatt advised, a wicked grin on his face.

Molly, playing along, agreed. "It's true. Casey will be waiting, and Wyatt and I will be just fiiine."

Chris narrowed his eyes. "So not funny. Not funny at all."

"I'll see you when you get back," Molly said, laughing.

Slipping a hand around to the back of her neck, Chris gently lifted her soft lips up to his, giving the young woman one more soulful kiss before disappearing in a swirl of blue and white lights.

Molly let out a contented breath as Chris vanished into the air. She then turned to the witch. "You just couldn't resist could you?"

"Nope."

"I have to admit the look on his face was pretty priceless."

"Yeah, well, as I noticed, you two seem to have fixed things up pretty well."

"Yeah," she agreed, happily. "I decided to really take what you said to heart, and it has worked really really well so far. I have to say, I feel pretty darn good about us right now."

Wyatt nodded, his eyes falling to the floor.

"What's wrong?"

The young man shrugged. "I don't know. It's just. . .the baby thing doesn't bother you? The fact he's eventually going to be holding Casey's hand while they listen to _their_ child's heartbeat for the first time? How they're going to keep getting closer and closer emotionally and spiritually over this new life they've created together while you stand on the sidelines and smile while in reality all you really want to do is scream and vanquish a few hundred demons just so you don't give into the urge to throttle Chris?"

Molly raised her brows. "Uh, Wyatt?"

"Yeah?"

"Breathe for me, would you?"

The Twice Blessed took a deep breath, his cheeks puffing out as he held it in.

"You can let it out."

He did so in one long puff.

"Feel better?"

"Not really."

Molly patted the spot next to her on the sofa. Once Wyatt had gotten situated on the couch next to her, she began, "So, why exactly are you letting this bother you all of the sudden? I thought you were actually okay with the situation. After all, the baby is going to be your nephew."

"I know, and that's really great, but at the same time. . .the kid hates me. In the future I mean. I'm not talking a little difference of opinion– Lucas is going to flat out hate me. I don't know why either. He just made it really clear in his time here that I'm not someone he wants in his life, and if the son doesn't want me in his life, how am I supposed to keep Casey's affections?"

"When did this hit you?"

"Today. I understood it before, but for some reason thinking about Chris and Casey together at the doctor's office bonding over their son just made me really. . ."

"Really what?"

"Uncomfortable." Wyatt frowned, shaking his head. "That's not really the right word. Not jealous either though. I know they're not that way. Chris loves you, and I really think Case is falling for me. It's just they're together, and they have this thing binding them together, and it's sort of a monumentally big deal. Worried. That's the right word."

Molly let her brow crease. "Worried? About what? The baby?"

"No," he answered slowly. "Not really. I am worried about the little guy– all the demons after him already– but I know we'll keep him safe. I saw him as a teenager, so we must do something right. It's more worry about Chris and Casey bonding."

The whitelighter held up her hands, waving them around in front of her. "Whoa. Time out. I thought you just got done saying we don't have to worry about those two having feelings for each other?"

"That's not what I said. I said they love us. They do. Problem is they also have this history and all this heat and chemistry and now, they have this little person, and wouldn't it be oh-so-perfect if they fell in love with each other again and had the perfect little family unit."

Molly's face fell, any joy previously felt gone. "You think they could?"

Wyatt ran his hands through his blond locks in frustration. "No. Yes. I don't know. With those two I never know anything for sure. Except they aren't good for each other in any sort of romantic relationship because one of them always gets destroyed when it ends– which it always does badly."

Molly sucked in her lips, her eyes focused on the floor.

The young man sitting next to her noticed her drop into a melancholy mood, and knew immediately he had caused it. He put an arm around her and smiled at her in what he hoped was an encouraging way. "Hey, don't listen to me. I'm just having a bad day. I've never seen my brother light up the way he does when he looks at you– not even at Case. He loves you more than just about anything. You don't have to worry about that."

"Do you think it would be better if they were a traditional family?" Molly ventured quietly.

"Nah, they'd kill each other and then you and I would have to raise Lucas."

His answer brought a smile to her face.

"Besides," Wyatt continued, "you already know you're together in the future, so no worries. Honest."

"Okay, but on one condition."

"Name it."

Molly took Wyatt's hand. "You realize your future isn't set in stone. If you're worried about your relationship with Lucas just make sure you do everything you can to be the best Uncle in the world. You can only do what you can do– nothing more and nothing less. My mom always said worrying about what you can't control is a waste of time and energy."

"I like that. You can only do what you can do."

"Feel any better?"

"Actually," Wyatt answered, "just having you to talk to about all this makes me feel a little better. I'm not alone, you know?"

"I do know. So, why don't we make a pact right now? If one of us starts to freak out about this situation it's the other person's job to calm them down again. We can confide in each other about anything without the other judging, and most importantly, we support one another. Deal?"

Molly extended her hand.

Wyatt grinned, took the hand and shook it. "Deal."

000

Chris walked into the clinic and was immediately overcome with a sense of heaviness in his chest. Posters on STDs, child development and sexual well-being hung on every wall. Immediately to the right of the entrance was a rack of brochures with topics like "Maternal and NeoNatal Health" and "What Every Expecting Teen Needs to Know" along with such classics as "Birth Control Pills," "Child Spacing," and "Infertility."

The witchlighter's sense of anxiety wasn't helped by the overcrowded waiting area. No empty chair existed. With all the people crammed together in such a tight space, the air was thick and hot, and Chris almost found it hard to breathe.

A baby started wailing from somewhere on the other side of the room. The shrill sound pierced Chris' ears, making him wince.

Someone coughed. Another blew their nose.

Some little blonde girl of about four was banging a toy truck against a play table. Bang. Bang. Bang.

Chris took a deep breath, scanned the area and saw Casey was no where in sight. Not sure what else to do, he went up to the front counter. An angry looking woman with silver hair and a thin face was talking on the phone in a voice resembling that of a chipmunk. When she looked up at Chris her blue eyes were devoid of human emotion.

She put one hand over the receiver. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for a Cassandra Alvarez. She had an appointment for today."

"And you are?"

"Her friend. I was supposed to come with her, but I'm– "

"– Just hold on a sec."

The woman returned to the phone. "So, anyways, I told her I did not think it was a smart thing to do. I mean honestly."

"Excuse me," Chris tried. "My friend?"

"Sorry, Melissa, I got some kid here. Don't you worry about it. Yeah, I'll talk to you later, hon."

Joan, as Chris spotted on the woman's name tag, looked up from under the thick rims of her black glasses as she replaced the phone on the hook. When her narrowed eyes returned to pierce into the teenager's forehead, the woman started tapping her extraordinarily long red nails on the desk top. "Name?" she drawled.

"Chris Halliwell..."

"Of your friend."

"Cassandra Alvarez. A-L-V, like Victor, A-R-E-Z."

The receptionist typed in the name, frowned at the screen, hit enter a few times and answered, "Exam room 14."

"Thanks," the young man muttered in reply.

Moving toward the two large swinging doors toward the back of the room, Chris was forced to jump to avoid a toy truck banging his ankles. When he looked toward the source of the tiny automotive, he saw the little blonde girl from earlier giggling and waving at him. With a shake of his head, he lightly kicked the toy back in her direction and proceeded through the doors.

After getting momentarily disoriented by the overwhelming amount of white walls, the teenage witchlighter finally managed to find exam room 14. Knocking lightly on the door, he was greeted by a mature man in a lab coat, who immediately broke into a smile upon seeing the new arrival.

"You must be Christopher Halliwell. We've been waiting for you."

As Chris finally reached the inside of the room, he was greeted by the sight of his friend perched on top of an exam table, swinging her legs back and forth slowly. The movement stopped when she spotted him, the energy switching toward a heated glare.

"I'll go see if the lab results are in yet," the doctor informed them, excusing himself.

Chris turned sheepishly toward his friend, calculating in his head how long it would take before she started cursing him in spanish. He imagined, based on the little flare to her nostrils and the sharp edge to her gaze, it would only be about half a minute before she called him something that sounded pretty but probably meant he was a donkey's butt.

"_Eres completemente inutil. El burro sabe mas que tu._ _Como podria olvidarte la cita? Como? Que paso? Digame."_

Less than half a minute it seemed. "I know I heard the word donkey, which I'm sure isn't good, but you do realize I can't understand you when you speak a language I don't speak, right?"

"Where have you been? I tried calling you four times."

"Really, cause my phone only said three. . ."

"Chris," she warned in a tone more lethal than a darklighter's arrow.

His joking halted, and he let out a long drawn out breath, his hands finding refuge in his pants pockets. "I forgot."

"I noticed."

"I'm sorry, okay? It's just with Triad bomb shell it just sort of slipped my mind."

Somehow this was exactly the wrong thing to say.

"Oh, I see how it is. You were with Molly."

Chris' brows shot up, his face looking like it had been slapped. "What? What the hell does that have to do with anything?"

"Everything, Chris. It has everything to do with everything in the entire freaking world because right now I'm about this close," she held her thumb and pointer finger millimeters apart, "from losing it. I am sitting on this cold ass metal table with some strange old man poking and prodding at me with needles– which you know I just _love_– and then I realize I have no insurance because my mother pretty much said flat out last time we spoke that she had no daughter. She won't help me with this. Not at all. So, I'm panicking. I'm literally panicking because do you have any idea how much stuff is needed just for the prenatal care of a baby? Do you? Monthly check-ups, prenatal vitamins, sonograms, and if something goes wrong, just imagine how pricy that will be. Not to mention all the things once the kid is born. _Things_, Chris. Diapers and blankets and clothes and food and toys and milk."

Chris was slightly frightened of his friend at this point. "Case, we will figure it all out. You know that, right?"

"No, I don't know that. I don't know anything right now. All I know is that I asked you to be here because I knew it was going to make me freak out, and you weren't here. You weren't here because you were too busy playing kissy face with Molly."

The young man set his jaw. "That's not fair and you know it."

Casey lowered her dark brown eyes, shaking her head slowly. "I know, but I'm realizing I don't have a choice anymore."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm not me anymore," the young woman quietly answered. "The moment the doctor comes back into this room, I'm not me. The me I knew is going to be gone forever. I'm going to be someone entirely different. I don't get to live my life my way anymore. I don't get to cut people the slack I might have cut them in the past. Luxuries like those aren't mine anymore. I have to do what is best for the baby. No more parties, no more adventures, no more impulsiveness. Just methodical planning, responsibility and maturity. Long skirts and button up blouses. Bills. PTA. Doing things I don't like doing to make the little person on my heels happy."

"Case. . ." Chris breathed, realizing how much she'd been holding it all in till now.

With tears starting to pour from her eyes, the young woman shrugged helplessly. "It's my own fault. It's totally my own fault, and I have to deal with the consequences. I will. I'll be a good mom. A really great one. I will. No matter what I have to do. Even if it means going against you sometimes. I will. I don't want to, but I will. So, I just want to know now, whether or not we're on the same team. Are you committed or not? Just tell me the truth. I can handle it."

The young man didn't speak. His feet propelled him wordlessly forward, his arms pulling his friend into his chest, holding her as she continued to release everything she'd been holding inside of her mind and heart. He gently stroked her back, waiting for the storm to go by. It didn't take long before her body melted against his, her breathing back under control.

He gently pulled her back, wiping the remaining tears from her face with his thumb. Green locked firmly on brown as their gazes met. "I'm committed. You know that. And not just to the baby. I'm committed to the baby's mom too. I should have been here today."

She sniffled, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay. You needed to vent. It happens."

"I'm glad you and Molly are okay," she offered.

"Me too, but you were right. It's not an excuse. I promised I would be here. If you can't count on me to make it to the first doctor's visit, how can you rely on me for the big things?"

A knock came on the door.

The doctor poked his balding head into the room a moment later, the chart in his hand. He smiled thinly at the young pair before his eyes met Casey's. "Well, I'm not sure whether or not congratulations are in order, but the fact is, you are pregnant."

Casey swallowed, her eyes going shut.

Chris squeezed her hand.

"Now, I can recommend some very gifted gynecologists in the area, and I recommend you schedule an appointment with one for sometime this month. The sooner you get started on your neo-natal health care the better."

The doctor turned to Chris. "You're the father, correct?"

Chris' mind went numb. He felt himself nod, but he barely registered the rest of what the man began to say. Father. He was the father. He knew it all along. He'd known, but he hadn't really _known_ till now. It was official, and for some reason, the doctor's proclamation made all the difference in the world.

Casey was right.

They would never be the same again.

tbc. . .


	43. At the Beginning

I had such a hard time figuring out how to put this one down...still not happy with it. I just need to keep it moving, so I hope this works for you...

CHAPTER 43

****

At the Beginning

Zayel bit the inside of his mouth, drawing blood in an attempt to keep his tongue silent in the face of the mighty Triad. Standing before them once more, the demon found himself growing ever more tired of them. 

". . .yet still no results," the woman was saying. "Completely unacceptable. You're very life is on the line, Zayel. If you cannot do as we ask, we will be forced to turn to another more capable of following simple instructions."

Simple instructions. Simple she says.

Since his first encounter with the awesome threesome of evil, Zayel had done everything to try to separate the whitelighter from the Halliwells, but it was not possible. It was as though the Halliwell family knew she was a target. She was never alone, never unprotected. Only a suicidal fool would attempt to attack her while she was in their presence.

Zayel was anything but a fool.

"What have you to say for yourself?" asked the taller male, arms folding slowly over his chest.

"It will be done tonight," their reluctant servant replied, bowing.

Without asking permission, Zayel shimmered from their midst, appearing back in his apartment above ground. His first act upon arriving was to turn his kitchen table over, the vase of flowers as well as the salt and pepper shakers crashed onto the floor shattering.

"Bad day?" a familiar voice asked.

Zayel turned to find Marshal standing behind him, a cocky smirk playing on his dead lips.

The former master powered up an energy ball, taking aim.

Marshal held up one hand. "I'd listen to what I have to say if I were you. After all, you're running out of time, right?" When his enemy made no comment, the Vetala continued. "Right. See, being on the run, I've learned a few things. Like about how the Triad has you chasing your tail. They don't exactly have the same goals you do, do they?"

"Get to the point before I lose my patience."

The teenage ghost snorted derisively. "As if you had any to begin with. Here's the deal I'm willing to make. You get your bounty hunters off my back, and I tell you how to solve all your problems."

"Oh, is that so? How is it you would even know where to begin? Besides, I thought you were good now. Siding with me is a sure fire way to never see your precious family again. The flames don't lick their faces as it will ours."

"I'm not going to hell," Marshal growled. "I'm not."

"You've killed a number of people. Good, sweet, innocent people. Hell was made for those like you."

The young man snapped, "You made me. You forced me to become a monster."

Zayel, feeling particularly malicious due to his foul mood, retorted, "Yes, but will your God see the difference? Or even care? Murder is murder, and you can't deny your thrill in performing it."

Marshal opened his mouth but snapped it closed. He wasn't falling for this game. He had an agenda. He would not fail in it. "Do you want to know how to get rid of the Triad or not?"

"You think you could possibly accomplish such a task?" The former master laughed out-right. "Don't be ridiculous. More importantly, don't dare waste my time."

"Belthazor managed it," Marshal cut in. "He was your idol growing up. Powerful and even better– cunning. He suffered under their thumb too, but he destroyed them, freeing himself to do things his way."

"He was one of the most powerful demons to ever live. I cannot simply wave my hand and blast them all into the wasteland. My strength lies in strategy not brute force. If this is the best you have to offer I might as well summon the bounty hunters here straight away."

"It isn't," Marshal continued. "I was going to reference another instance. Demons working with the Charmed Ones. Remember? They worked together to vanquish the Triad. They felt smothered too. They wanted the power. The Triad is a joke anymore. They've failed every chance they've had to destroy the Charmed Ones. They're out-dated hacks."

"Exceedingly powerful hacks," Zayel corrected bitterly. "If they want me to do this their way, there is no other option. They will destroy me, which I suppose is just what you are aiming for, isn't it?"

"I would love for it to happen that way, but you'd never let it happen that way. So, better to protect myself this way."

"Which is?"

"Call off the hunt for me."

Zayel growled deep in his throat. Snapping his fingers, he barked out to the arriving demons, "Deal off. Get lost. Scram."

The newcomers hissed angrily but obeyed his command, knowing better than to cross the more powerful demon. Each and every single one disappeared without giving any sort of trouble.

"Tell me or so help me I will kill you myself."

Marshal nodded. "Work with the Halliwells."

"That is your brilliant idea? Work with the Halliwells? What makes you think they would ever consider such an idea?"

"They have worked with demons in the past. Besides, you'll offer them something they can't refuse– something the Twice Blessed Witch would never dream of passing up on."

Zayel folded his arms over his chest. "Oh?"

"Amnesty during the pregnancy."

"Why would I want that? My whole goal is destroying that baby."

"Which you can't do while it's inside the mother anyway. I've done my homework on this. She's going to start channeling the child's powers, and she's not stupid. She'll figure out how to use each and every single one to its fullest. She'll be almost as indestructible as the Twice Blessed. It'd be impossible to accomplish your mission during the pregnancy anyway. They won't know that though. They'll jump at the opportunity to give themselves time to prepare."

Zayel nodded thoughtfully. "If they know the Triad wants the child dead too, they'd be more than willing to vanquish them for me. All they need is to know when and where."

"Exactly."

Little did anyone know just how many double-crosses were occurring in this very moment.

000

"It's done."

Casey looked up from the book she was reading as Chris took a seat across from her at the table in the school's library. "Huh?"

"I just saw Marshall, and the plan is working so far. Zayel took the bait. We should be hearing from him soon."

The younger witch sucked in air, her eyes dropping back to the pages.

"I know you don't like making a deal with him, but we needed to do something."

"I know."

"It's for the best."

"I know."

Chris let out a breath and leaned back in his chair. Folding his arms over his chest he asked, "You're still really upset about all this, aren't you?"

Casey let out her held breath, setting down her book. Forcing her eyes up to her friend's face, the young woman answered, "He killed my father, Chris. The last thing in the world I want is to work with Zayel. I hate him. I don't trust him, and I'm not sure this plan is even going to work. I mean, why not just take out Zayel as soon as he gives us the information on the Triad?"

"You know he's smarter than that. He'll probably send someone else to do his dirty work for him."

"How do we know he won't try to kill us as soon as the Triad is out of the way?"

"We don't. I figure it's better to have him come after us than him _and_ the Triad though. After all, we have no idea how this pregnancy is going to affect you."

Casey looked back down at her book. "I'm fine."

"We've both been avoiding it since the doctor's, but you were right about everything you said. And I think it's time we stopped running and just deal with this. So, I made a list."

"A list?"

"Of things to do before the baby is born."

Casey dropped the book onto the table and stared slack jawed at her friend. "Are you kidding me?"

"No. When I panic, I plan. You know that."

Casey reached into her pocket, pulled something out and handed it to Chris.

He frowned, opened up the paper she'd handed him and grinned. "Casey's list of things to do. Wow." He looked up at her. "Lucas really has no hope of being an easy going, spontaneous kid, does he?"

"None at all."

"So, does this mean we're both over the shock now?"

"I think so."

"This is good. I mean, I feel like for the last couple of weeks we've both been just walking around a little numb."

"Yeah, it was really bothering Wyatt. I could tell. He wanted so badly to help me, but I just couldn't talk to him or anyone else about what I was feeling yet. Couldn't explain it to myself, how could I explain it to him?"

"Same with Molly," Chris agreed. "They don't get it. They can't. Even if they want to. The only person who really understands what this feels like is you."

"And you. Because it's our lives that are changing."

"Right. Especially yours right now. Your body is going through a lot. Which really proves my point earlier. About you needing more protection. . ."

"I'll deal."

"Sure you will."

Casey wrinkled her nose at him. "Fine, I'm completely helpless now. Save me, Obi-Wan Kenobi. You're my only hope."

Chris couldn't help but laugh, shaking his head at her dramatics. "You've been spending way too much time around Kip. But, you win. I'll drop it. In the mean time, any plans for lunch? I figure we could pop back home, and maybe I could whip you up some poached salmon with some garlic butter and. . ." Chris paused noticing the look that had suddenly sprung to his friend's face. "You okay?"

The young woman's eyes glazed over, her lips pursed tightly as her throat lurched in a gag. She shook her head in the negative. "Firstly, stop talking about salmon. Secondly, what is that smell?"

Chris took a couple whiffs of the air before shrugging. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Casey took a long shaky breath as her eyes turned in the direction of the head librarian, an eighty year old woman whose fondness for musky perfume was legendary in the school. Most people imagined she just bathed in the stuff rather than use soap.

"Mrs. Johanson? She's on the other side of the room..."

"Oh god," the other teen cried before jumping up from her chair and bolting from the library.

Chris stood to follow her but was cut off by Kip.

The young telepath jerked Chris off balance as he pulled the other witch between a stack of books somewhere in the biography section. Once they were out of ear shot, the telepath cupped the back of the witchlighter's head. "Dude, what the hell did you do?"

Rubbing his injured cranium, the other teen responded, "What was that for?"

"Valerie. You totally forgot to remove the spell on her. Have you _seen_ her lately?"

"No. . .why?"

Kip proceeded to push Chris out into the hall where someone was being circled by a group of kids who were all laughing. From the looks of things, papers, books and pens had all been scattered over the floor while pale white hands fought to recollect them.

After a moment, the victim of the laughter was visible to Chris. A girl with thin, greasy blonde hair, old fashioned horn rimmed glasses, long sharp nose and acne riddled skin was trying not to cry as she pulled toilet paper the hem of her dress while trying to hold on to her now recollected books.

"Holy shit," Chris breathed. "Valerie?"

"You broke her," Kip chided. "Now, while I really hate her, even _I_ wouldn't pull something like this."

"It wouldn't have happened if she'd learned to be a nicer person."

Kip rolled his eyes. "Like that will ever happen. Chris, remember the wiccan reed? Harm none. You can't punish people. Even if they are the scum of the earth. It's not our place. If it were, I would have taken out half the football team and the entire basketball team by now."

Chris let out a breath, watching as one of the girls knocked Valerie's books from her hands again, sending the former Queen Bee back to her knees. Tears were forming in her eyes. The young man knew enough was enough. "End the spell. Set her free. As is my will so mote it be."

"Good boy, Chris."

"Yeah, yeah. I've got to go."

"Why, where's the fire?"

"I have to find Case."

Kip quirked a brow. "Something up?"

"When isn't it?"

"Touche."

000

Wiping off her mouth with a piece of toilet paper, Casey dropped the now soiled tissue down into the water before she pushed down the silver handle of the toilet and watched her breakfast swirl around and around before disappearing to parts she really didn't want to know about.

Rising to her feet, a bit unsteadily, she exited the stall and moved over to the sink, washing her hands before pulling out a paper towel and soaking it with cold water. She dabbed the cool paper over her forehead and cheeks before sliding it to the back of her neck.

Once she felt a bit better, she disposed of the paper towel and slowly made her way out of the bathroom, almost immediately running into someone.

"Hey."

Casey blinked up at Sam. "Hi."

"I just wanted to apologize for. . .you know. Everything."

"Apology accepted," the young woman quickly said, starting off again only to have her arm grabbed. She looked down at the large hand before her eyes slid up to Sam's. "Let go."

The young man immediately released her. "Sorry. I just. . .I need to know if it's true."

"If what's true?"

"Are you really. . .?" His eyes slid to her abdomen.

Casey let out a breath, hugging herself. "Yeah."

"Chris'?"

"Yes, Sam. It's Chris'."

The young man's jaw tightened as he nodded. "Oh," was all he could seem to say. At which point the air became thick with tension and an awkward silence.

"Case?" Jessica's voice cut through the hallway. The taller girl stopped next to her friend, shot Sam a look almost identical to (and just as threatening as) a dog's snarl. "You."

"Hey, Jess."

"It's Jessica to you."

Sam shrunk under the white hot ire in the newcomer's eyes. He cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. "I'm just gonna go. Tell Chris congratulations. He's luckier than he knows; you're way more than he deserves. "

Casey could only blush in response, not sure why she was still so affected by the young man.

"Good luck with," he gestured with his head down to her stomach, leaving the words unspoken.

"Thank you," the witch answered softly.

As the young man walked away, Jessica turned on her friend. "You look pale. And kinda green. Are you sick? Are you going to throw up? If you're going to throw up, let me know now because you know what a bad gag reflex I have."

"Been there done that."

"Oh, Sweetie," the other girl consoled, wrapping her arms around her friend. "You wanna go sit down?"

"I'm fine."

Jess swatted her arm. "Stop being so damn stubborn. You are not fine. You just puked. Puke means you are not okay. So, you will sit and you will like it damn it."

Chris and Kip came jogging down the hall.

Chris came to a stop next to his best friend's side. His hands went to her shoulders, his green eyes probing her face for signs of discomfort, pain or anything else that didn't belong. "Hey, you okay?"

"Of course she's not okay," Jess snapped. "You went and knocked her up, and now she's throwing up. It's the beginning of a whole mess of pregnancy symptoms, which from what I've read will only get more fun from here on out. Like weird cravings, peeing every two minutes, swollen feet. God, that's going to suck for her. And right now? See how pale she is? That's not normal. She needs rest."

"I don't actually feel– "

"– Quiet, you," Jess cut off. "You could be dying and would say you were fine."

"Ginger," Kip suddenly announced.

The group all turned to look at him at once.

The telepath repeated. "Ginger."

"Finish the thought, Kip," Chris urged.

"It's supposed to fix nausea. I saw it on some show. Chris, you're Mr. Cooking Guy, doesn't it have some sort of non-throwing-up property to it?"

"It's known to settle down an upset stomach. Yeah."

Kip nodded in triumph folding his arms over his chest with inflated pride. "Ha. See? I know stuff."

Jessica patted his head. "Yes, dear. You're very smart."

"Ooh, and crackers," Kip went on. "Every pregnant lady loves Saltines. They're the all time favorite nausea fixer-upper. We should hunt down ginger flavored Saltines. And then, we can give her some water with them, and she can finish off the day just fine. Right?"

"Not right," Jessica amended. "She needs to go home. Case looks like she's going to keel over at any given moment. Chris, just orb her home, and put her to bed where she belongs."

Kip snickered, "I think that's how they got in this mess in the first place."

The telepath's significant other lightly whacked his arm.

Casey rolled her eyes. "It's just the start of morning sickness. I'll be fine."

"Oh, is that so," a familiar voice challenged behind their group.

They turned to find a reformed Valerie standing behind them. Her old self once more, the woman seemed even more spiteful than before as her icy eyes pierced into Casey. "I don't know how you did it, but I swear you will_ not_ get away with what you've done to me."

"Valerie, what are you talking about?"

The blonde nearly growled out, "Nobody makes a fool of me. Especially not some knocked up _whore_."

Jessica took a step forward, ready for battle, but was held back by her boyfriend.

"What are you babbling on about?" Casey snapped, hardly in the mood for this.

"You made me look like a complete fool– "

"– like that takes much effort," Kip muttered.

Valerie ignored him. "So, I promise when the time is right, I'm going to make you the biggest fool of all."

"A. I have no clue what you're going on about. B. I don't care. I've kind of got a lot on my plate right now, so messing with you, while fun as hell, isn't really on the top of my to do list these days. So, do me and the rest of the student body a favor and just shut the hell up."

"Hear hear," Jess echoed.

Valerie shook her head. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

As the blonde nightmare sauntered away, Chris turned to Casey, a hand going to her shoulder. "You okay?"

"Is it wrong she worries me more than Zayel?"

000

Molly glanced over to Wyatt who was eating his lunch as though it was going to be the last meal he ever consumed again. "Hungry?"

"No."

The young woman shook her head. "If you say so."

"What?" he questioned, his mouth full of macaroni and cheese.

"You asked me to have lunch with you. You tell me."

Wyatt swallowed his food before his face morphed into a picture perfect pout. "I'm upset. I'm really upset, and I don't know how to deal, so I eat. Eating grounds me. Makes me feel like I have control again."

"Funny, I thought I was the only emotional eater in our little group."

"Nope. Reining King right here."

"You asked me to the manor so we could talk. So talk, Wyatt. What's wrong?"

The Twice Blessed leaned back in his chair, tossing down his fork. "Chris. And Casey. Both of them. They're different, right? Since the clinic? I'm not just going crazy? They keep to each other almost all the time. They don't talk to anyone about the baby or the pregnancy."

Molly let out a breath. "No. You're not crazy. I ask Chris about it, and he changes the subject or tries to get me to forget I asked."

"How does he do that?"

Molly blushed.

"Ooooh," Wyatt smirked. "That's how."

"Anyway," the whitelighter changed the topic back, "I have noticed a certain level of avoidance. From both of them really. Like yesterday, Piper asked if Casey had remembered to take the prenatal vitamins, and Casey stood up, grabbed the pills, downed them with some water and then just marched up the stairs without so much as a word. I've never seen her treat Piper like that."

"No, she never has. She practically worships my mom. It's kind of like how Chris has been treating me like a non-person. I keep asking him how's he's doing and nothing. No response. It's frustrating me to no end because I know how shook up they were when they got back, and it's been a couple weeks now and still no improvement. I don't know what to do."

"Duck," Molly cried, orbing out.

"Duck?" Wyatt questioned just as a darklighter's arrow pierced his back.

The young man lurched forward with a gasp of pain before turning his head and spotting his attacker. With the flick of his hand he incinerated the culprit. It didn't fix his current situation, though.

Molly reappeared just in time to see Wyatt fall off the kitchen chair and crash to the floor. She rushed to his side, only to remember just in time that she too was now in danger from the poison oozing off the arrow.

"I can help," a deep voice offered.

Molly looked up from her knees to find Zayel standing smugly above her.

tbc. . .


	44. Can't Stop Lovin' You

CHAPTER 44

Can't Stop Lovin' You

Chris leaned against the locker adjacent to Casey's, his arms folded over his chest and one foot crossed over the other, his eyes never leaving her face as he studied her. Fighting demons all his life had given him a unique perspective about his future– risk nothing, gain nothing. The bigger the gamble the bigger the pay off. You never know which day might be your last. It was the Halliwell way. However, staring at his best friend, who currently was trying her best to hide her evident discomfort, Chris realized his entire way of thinking would have to change soon. He wasn't just living for himself anymore. His characteristic reckless nature could put both Casey and his son in danger, and the thought of it was unacceptable.

"Earth to Chris?"

The green eyed youth shook himself out of his thoughts, his brows raised in an unasked plea for Casey to repeat herself.

She rolled her eyes good naturedly before complying. "I asked if you would mind stopping by the store after school today so I could pick up some nausea fighting food– as Kip called it."

"Mhmm. Sure. Yeah. Sounds good."

The young woman quirked a brow.

"Sorry," he replied, running a hand through his hair. "I'm a little out of it."

"Noticed."

"Shut up," he shot back with a grin. Sticking his hands deep into his pockets, he shrugged. "Just thinking about some things. That's all."

"I thought we talked about this. You and I thinking equals bad. We were supposed to stop doing that."

"I know."

It was just at that particular moment a cry cut through Chris' mind. The voice was recognized instantly as Molly's. Her fear painted plea was in the shape of his name. It was only cried once, but once was all it took for Chris to forget everything he'd just been thinking regarding his reckless nature.

He orbed out then and there.

Luckily, Casey was long used to her friend's eyes turning dark when trouble brewed, understood the inherent frown to mean he was hearing something (in this case meaning some_one_) and knew enough about her friend's personality to know she'd better freeze the scene and do so fast, which she managed to do just before the first orb lit the high school halls.

Standing amongst a throng of frozen peers Casey's shoulders dropped as a sigh escaped her coral lips. Patting her stomach lightly, "Your daddy is nuts."

000

Molly cradled Wyatt's upper body in her arms, her hazel eyes covered in hot tears she refused to shed. Her gaze flicked up to Zayel's, her jaw setting as she stared down the monster before her.

"Who are you?"

The demon bowed regally. "Zayel. At your service."

Zayel. A name she'd heard repeatedly ever since her return to San Francisco. He was the _thing_ responsible for the circumstances she and the ones she loved found themselves currently in. He'd nearly destroyed Marshall's soul, been responsible– at the very least indirectly– for her own premature death, managed to murder Casey's father, which had brought the horrible woman to San Francisco and back into Chris' life, and finally, was trying to murder seemingly everyone she cared about.

If she could trade powers with someone just for a day– even a moment– it would be Piper.

"He's bleeding to death far more quickly than the poison is killing him," Zayel nonchalantly commented. "Just so you know."

Molly closed her eyes, willing herself to orb she and Wyatt to safety. Her own body disappeared, only to reappear in the same spot a moment later. Her eyes went wide as she realized what Zayel more than likely already knew– she wasn't strong enough to get away. Her fear paralyzed her powers.

"Chris!"

His name came from her throat without her mind processing it. It was instinctual. All she knew was she was scared, and she wanted Chris. Period.

Her wish was fulfilled a mere moment later as a cloud of orb lights coalesced in the middle of the kitchen, a pale Chris Halliwell erupting from amongst them. His green eyes darted first to Molly, the pure terror written in them alleviated by the sight of her in one piece. However, as he scanned the scene in a brief glance, his panic was recharged by the sight of his big brother lying motionless on the floor, a tell tale arrow sticking from his shoulder.

"Wyatt," Chris breathed, frozen in place by the image of his all powerful sibling unconscious on the floor.

"Even better," Zayel cooed, waving his hand.

Another darklighter appeared, taking aim at Molly. The arrow soared through the air, cutting through the space in mere seconds, landing straight into warm flesh.

Chris' that is.

Molly watched in total horror as the boy she loved with eyes like the sea and a roguish grin that melted her heart jumped in front of her, falling in a heap before her. She dropped to her knees, tears pouring from her eyes. "Chris? Oh, God. Chris? Why didn't you use telekinesis? Or let me orb out of the way?"

"Didn't. . .think about it." He swallowed thickly. "Now, go."

"No," she shook her head stubbornly, her hair sticking to her moist cheeks.

Chris slipped one hand behind her neck, pulling her down for a feather light kiss before whispering into her ear, "I can't watch you die again."

Before Molly knew what was happening she was being surrounded in bright lights, her body whisked away to safety against her will. As she reappeared in the comfort of her home with Prue and Andy, Molly heard voices downstairs and set off in a dead run. Her feet pounded on the floor, then the stairs and finally skidded to a stop on the tiled kitchen floor as she came before two of the most powerful women she'd ever met.

"Piper. . .Prue. . .it's the boys."

000

Casey leaned back against the door of the bathroom stall, her elbows resting on her bent knees. The water in the toilet swished loudly before the sight of her half digested attempt at lunch disappeared and clean water took its place.

Taking deep steadying breaths, the young woman crawled back to her feet, and opened the door of the stall with a pale, shaky hand. For the second time in about an hour, the teenager cleaned herself up over the sink, popping two breath mints from the pack in her pocket. She decided right then and there she was going home. And not talking to anyone she liked on the way there. Or even mildly got along with. No one deserved what her breath probably smelled like at this point.

Except Valerie. The blonde nightmare deserved to be outright puked on.

A grin formed on Casey's lips. "Eat a pizza, let the baby do its thing, and presto– Valerie a la vomit."

A wave of dizziness wiped the little joy she'd found clear from her mind as it almost knocked her off her feet. She gripped on to the edges of the sink to support herself and squeezed her eyes shut. It took a moment of deep breathing before she risked re-opening one eye and then the other. The sight she found in the mirror was almost unrecognizable– a young woman with mascara running down her gaunt, tired face, whose hair was dull and in need of a trim.

Casey looked down at her stomach. "Well, _Lucerito_, I think your daddy and Auntie Jess just may be right after all..." Her gaze lifted back up, "Mommy needs to take better care of herself."

With a deep sigh, she patted her still taut abdomen with a tiny smile. "I think you and I better get home. This whole first trimester thing is kicking your mom's butt big time."

Like a wish asked of a genie, her desire was filled within seconds of the words escaping her mouth. Her body went awash in brightness, her whole being disappearing for the space of a long yawn. During the displacement, the young woman realized she was orbing, but the act felt quite differently than in the many times she'd done so in the arms of the Halliwells. With them, orbing felt safe– like a gentle rocking. The feeling she experienced now was as a boat on turbulent seas.

The displacement ended, bursting into the kitchen of Halliwell manor where her eyes first landed on Wyatt, lying oh-so still on the kitchen floor, an arrow piercing his back. Casey ran to his side, dropping to her knees next to him. Her hand brushed back his damp blond hair as her eyes clouded over with salty panic. "Wyatt? Please, open your eyes."

A ragged cough drew her attention to the other side of the kitchen, and when her eyes caught sight of the second victim, her breath escaped her. The sight was something out of one of her nightmares– Chris, sprawled on the floor, pale and bleeding, an equally dark and poisonous arrow protruding from his side.

All thought left her after seeing the younger brother in such a state. Something deep inside of her snapped while her stomach knotted and turned and burned with a new fiery brand of nausea. Everything in her became at odds. Fear and brashness, cold and hot, love and hate. She didn't feel one thing at any given time but more so the grand spectrum of everything all at once.

"Why what an unexpected surprise," a wry voice announced itself.

The witch's eyes turned lethal, sharp and dangerous as they latched onto her father's killer.

Before Zayel could utter another syllable, every cabinet behind him erupted into thousands of splinters of wood, glass and plastic as they and all their contents suffered the wrath of the pregnant witch. The eruption caught the demon in the back, sending him catapulting forward into the island.

With a single tear dangling off her eyelashes, Casey shook, not with weakness but ire.

Zayel rose to his feet, shakily. Looking down he spotted a large piece of wooden shrapnel through his chest. Yanking it out and tossing it aside, the demon then wiped at the blood rolling down his temple from one of his many cuts. His final attempt at doing as the Triad bid had failed. He'd neither killed the whitelighter nor the baby. It was time to consider alternative options.

"Amnesty," he growled.

"_Chingate_."

"Tsk. Tsk. Words like that from a mother to be. Distasteful. Remember that?" He limped nearer. "_Mother_ to be. You let me go, and promise you and your little friends will take out the Triad when I give the word, I will grant you a blood oath to leave you and your child alone until after he is born."

Casey wanted his blood on the floor. She wanted it more than she'd wanted anything in her life. However, she knew Chris' wishes. She knew the danger the demon posed to her and the baby. "Make the oath. Fast before I change my mind."

Zayel grabbed a kitchen blade, slicing open his hand. Uttering a few words over the open wound he offered the hand to her. "Shake it."

Her father's mangled face appeared in her mind. His eye had been torn from the socket. His jaw broken, his teeth missing for the most part. Part of his skull cap had been ripped off. And one lone eye filled with terror had stared back at she and her mother from the mortuary slab.

The wise brown eye of her farther locked in her mind seemed to condemn her for even considering making a deal with this devil.

She shook the hand, almost hearing her father's screams of protest.

Black magic swirled around them, and in an instant Zayel was thrown backward as a dark purple shield went up around Casey.

He hissed in pain from his spot on the floor. "It is done."

And without another syllable uttered, the demon disappeared.

Casey's instinct was to fall to the floor next to Chris. Her hand cupped his face. "Chris? Can you hear me?"

A slight groan was the only response as his eyelids fluttered but failed to open.

"_No, por favor. No me dejas, por favor. Te necesito, entiendes? No puedo sobrevivir sin tigo." _With her hand still lightly touching his cheek, Casey struggled not to choke on her tears as she prepared to call for help to any whitelighter or Elder who would listen.

Her calls were cut short as Molly appeared amongst a cloud of lights with Prue and Piper in tow.

Casey backed away as Prue and Piper rushed past her to Wyatt's side, knowing he had suffered the effects of the poison longer. Once Piper pulled the loathsome arrow out, Prue was able to get to work healing her nephew. The golden glow came slowly but surely, the blond teen gasping for air as his punctured lung resealed and healed.

The Twice Blessed sat up and looked about. As soon as he saw his girlfriend in the vicinity, he awkwardly rose to his feet, hurrying to her and helping her up, his blue eyes turning grey with sick worry over her. "Are you alright? Did the darklighter hurt you? What are you even doing here?"

Instead of letting her answer, he pulled her close against him. The embrace was so tight she could almost feel the air being squeezed out of her lungs like oxygen from a deflating balloon.

Meanwhile, Prue and Piper got to work on Chris, healing his wounds far more quickly than she had his older brother's. The young man was up in half the time, his eyes scanning for Molly. He found her and leaped to his feet, his hands on her shoulders as he scanned her for injury. "Are you okay?"

"Me? You were shot with a darklighter arrow. Again." Molly wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in his chest. "You scared me."

Chris stroked her hair gently. "I'm sorry."

"Okay, where the hell is he?" Piper raged, hands on hips.

"Gone," Casey murmured. "I scared him off."

Wyatt remarked, "What? What do you mean?"

"Explosion," she gestured vaguely at the cabinets. "He got hurt."

Piper, slightly disappointed at not being able to thrash the demon responsible for hurting her sons, let out a long breath. "I suppose it doesn't matter so long as he's gone for now."

"For now," Chris muttered. "I guess it was too much to hope for that he'd just take the bait."

Casey could only wince, her eyes dropping to the floor. In a soft voice she confessed, "He did actually. In the end. He was scared for his life. The baby is safe for now."

"I know how hard that must have been for you," Chris said.

The young woman only nodded.

To his mother and aunt, "Thanks for bailing us out."

"That's what we're here for," Prue answered.

"Though, it sounds like Casey took care of it before we got here," Piper remarked. She eyed the girl carefully. "So, seems you're getting the hang of that new power of yours pretty quickly. I mean, you must be if you were able to fight off a demon like Zayel all by yourself. Scare him enough to thwart his master plan..."

Casey knew what Piper was thinking. Never trust a demon.

Wyatt sensing an odd tension, forced a smile, "Well, I for one am proud of you. Way to save my all powerful butt."

The remark didn't even earn the poor teen a smile. Her eyes were locked numbly on the floor.

Prue, in the mean time, had spotted crimson spots on the floor amongst the clutter. "Hmm...you know, if I could gather enough remnants of his blood, I bet I'd be able to whip up one heck of a demonic ass kicking potion."

"A few changes to the potion to vanquish Belthazor would work," Piper mused. "Especially the version we concocted to vanquish him after he'd been possessed by the Source."

"Excuse me?" Prue questioned. "Cole was what?"

Piper waved her off. "Later. Clean now. Discuss Phoebe's many ex-husbands later."

"Ooh," Prue went on with a slight grin, "I just always _knew_ she'd get married more than once."

As the two sisters kept gossiping and started getting out the cleaning supplies, Molly turned to Chris, sucking in a breath. "I really need to talk to you. . .alone."

Chris nodded, shooting a look at the adults to check for permission to leave the mess for them to pick up. His mother nodded while his aunt could only smile knowingly at her charge. Getting the green light, the two exited the kitchen and made their way up the stairs.

Casey watched with dim eyes as the couple exited. Her cheeks grew hot as Chris' hand slipped around Molly's waist on the way up the stairs. She swallowed thickly and let herself sink further into Wyatt's arms.

After grabbing a broom and dust pan, Piper turned to Casey, noticing the odd look in her eyes. "Sweetie, are you all right?"

"Morning sickness," she lied.

Wyatt's brows went up, more than surprised she'd admitted to a pregnancy symptom. Especially since she'd been avoiding the topic for weeks.

"I think I'm going to go lay down if that's okay?"

"Sure," Piper answered. She gestured for Wyatt to guide her up the stairs.

As the two teenagers slowly made their way out of the kitchen, Prue noticed the concern in her younger sister's soft brown eyes. Setting down the turkey baster and the potion vial she had just gotten out, Prue raised an eyebrow. "Piper, I know that look. What's wrong?"

"I should have know this was going to happen..."

"Sweetie, you're going to have to be just a little more specific than that."

Piper sighed, turning to her sibling. "Casey. I'm pretty sure Wyatt wasn't the brother she wanted holding her in his arms just now."

"Ooh, that's bad."

"Very."

000

Chris closed the door behind him before turning his attention to Molly, who was currently sitting on the edge of his bed, a nervous look about her. He folded his arms over his chest, defensive as he regarded her. He had a feeling he knew what this was about. She was mad at him for being the over-protective boyfriend again. Well, if she thought for one minute he was going to stand there and—

— "I'm so sorry, Chris."

The young man visibly jerked out of his own thoughts. "What?"

Molly let out an unsteady breath, shrugging helplessly as tears started forming in the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away, taking in a deep breath, trying to calm herself down.

Chris was at her side in an instant, his arm wrapped around her, his green eyes probing her face, trying to lock on to her hazel pair. "Hey, look at me. Baby, why are you crying?"

"I thought you were going to die," she let out in a single breath. "I saw the arrow go into you, and I knew it was poisonous, and I don't know how to heal, and I just kept thinking to myself over and over and over again how you were going to die. How I was going to have to hold you in my arms as you bled to death or the poison stopped your heart. I was so terrified I was going to watch you die, and now, I understand. Really and truly understand."

Chris took her shoulders, turning her toward him. "Mol, you have to slow down. What are you talking about?"

"You. Dead. Me. Dead." She smiled weakly, "I get it now. I get what you must have been feeling. The emptiness, terror, pain...I get it. I felt some of it today, and to go through it for real...to have you die in my arms like I did– in a way– in yours. . .I understand why you did what you did with Casey. I think that kind of sudden hole in a person has to be filled with something."

Chris, for the first time in a long while, didn't know what to say.

"I know things haven't been the same with us since I got back," Molly continued, finally looking up. "I've been keeping at a bit of a distance, and our romantic level hasn't quite gotten back to what it was. Thing is, I _do_ have empathy for what you went through now, and it changes my view point completely."

Chris ventured, "Even about Case...?"

Molly narrowed her eyes. "Not so much. I may tolerate her now, but I'm not sure I'll ever learn to like her."

"Figured. Had to try though."

"I know," Molly replied. "_But_, my point is I am tired of us not being as close as we were. Part of it is me– I know. Part of it is also you though."

"I know," Chris acknowledged, "and I swear that is going to change as of right now."

Molly smiled softly. "Good because after seeing you like that today, all I can think about is being as close to you as humanly possible."

"What do you– ?"

His words were cut off by a hard-hitting kiss. If they had been cartoon characters steam would have started pouring out of both his ears as he jumped up and down kicking his feet together and whistling.

Molly then slowly took her hands to the hem of his over shirt, ripping the black t-shirt away from his firm chest. The long sleeved grey tee he had on underneath soon followed. Her hazel eyes admired his firm pecs and abs for a moment before her hands crept slowly up both, not stopping until they'd reached his face.

"You sure," Chris tried to ask. More kissing interrupted. He attempted to finish, "want to do this?"

In answer, Molly started unbuttoning her blouse, pushing him backwards on the bed. With a sexy grin only Chris had ever seen from her, the young woman replied, "Stop thinking and start undressing, Mr. Halliwell."

A full fledged smile of joy on his face, Chris sat up on the bed, grabbed her around the waist and threw her backwards on to the bed, sidling up next to her. "Yes, Maam."

Panting, sweating, caressing, kissing and experiencing peaks of intimacy, the two were reconnected not just physically but as two halves of a set unit. The bond already between them, while never to be the same as it once was, in this moment, started to forge ahead even more sturdy than it had been previously. No more were the two young teens in puppy love where the world was cotton candy and rainbows. Their love was now of something stronger– something earned through patience, forgiveness and work.

tbc. . .


	45. Can't Fight this Feeling

Can anyone place the opening lines I borrowed from an eighties classic horror film?

CHAPTER 45

**Can't Fight this Feeling**

_One, two he's after you. Three, four better lock your door. Five, six get a crucifix. Seven, eight gonna stay up late. Nine, ten never sleep again._

_One, two he's after you. Three, four better lock your door. Five, six get a crucifix. Seven, eight gonna stay up late. Nine, ten never sleep again._

_Nine, ten never sleep again._

_Never sleep again._

_Never again._

Casey moaned in her sleep, her brow furrowing as beads of sweat formed and matted her hair against her face.

_The creek of doors. _

_Flash of light._

_Mortuary slab._

_She moves closer to it. Her mother at her side. Just like before._

_The doctor warns them about what they are to see. How horrifying the remains appear. How the wild animal had torn through most of her father's body, leaving little to be identified._

_He says to brace themselves._

_The mortuary slab has her father's head torn off the shoulders, his one brown eye staring up at her in agony, his broken, disconnected jaw looking as though it were mid scream when struck._

_The rest is just pieces. Torn, shredded, mutilated. Chunks of flesh left over from what had once been a man._

Casey turned toward Wyatt, her breathing getting faster and more shallow by the minute.

_Tomb stone at midnight. _

_Flowers in a tanned hand bend down to lay them upon the fresh grave. The grave reads: Ricardo Lorenzo Alvarez Augusto 1979- Diciembre 2021._

_The tears falling on the soil are her own._

The young witch turns again, a small whimper escaping her lips.

_"I's Chris. Was your name?"_

_The pigtailed youth blushes shyly, hiding half behind her father's legs, but the grown up gently pushes her forward as he bends down between the two young children. "Esta bien, Lucerito. Esta bien. Es un amigo. Un chico muy amable."_

_"Casey," she answers softly, her doe brown eyes finally looking up into the other child's face._

_"Wanna pway?"_

_She nods, and the little boy takes her hand and pulls her away with him._

_They run and run, the landscape melting away into a forest, dark and mysterious. Silent. Far too silent– no birds singing, no animals rustling in the foliage. Nothing. Just them. Running._

_Suddenly, they are no longer children but their present incarnations._

_They're not running in fun but in fear._

_Chris jerks forward suddenly. His face half turns toward her. His pale skin, luminescent in the moonlight, is splattered in something dark. His green eyes wide as he stares back at her, horrified._

_Her hand reaches to touch his cheek._

_It comes away sticky with blood._

_The young man falls to the ground, the gaping hole in the side of his head, evident now. Somehow one of his gorgeous green eyes has been ripped clear of the socket, while the other goes slack. His lips part as the last breath he has leaves him._

_She's holding him in her arms, cradling his limp form against her suddenly protruding belly. "No. No. Chris, you can't do this. You can't do this to him," she's sobbing._

_Dark red eyes form in the shadows, the throbbing purple veined monster stepping out from his night time shroud. And all Zayel can say about his triumph is, "The saying is true. History will repeat itself."_

Casey jerked awake.Looking around for signs of her nightmare come to life, she realized it was only a horrible, gut wrenching dream after all. Though, her fears weren't alleviated through the realization. After what she'd seen earlier, nothing could calm her. Not even the warm and loving man laying beside her.

She turned to smile softly at Wyatt's large, sleeping form. The Twice Blessed was on his stomach, his muscular back rising and falling rhythmically. One arm was dangling over the edge of the bed while the other was tucked under his head.

Knowing how his girlfriend wasn't ready for complete intimacy with him yet, he'd promised to stay above the covers. She was amused to find he had kept his promise minus one detail– his feet must have gotten cold because they were buried under the sheets.

She covered the rest of him with the comforter, which he immediately rolled himself into.

Then he started to snore.

Loudly.

The young woman stifled a laugh, shook her head and rose from the bed. Pausing at the edge, she kissed the back of his neck softly before leaving the room and closing the door behind her.

Just because she wouldn't sleep any more tonight didn't mean Wyatt had to suffer with her.

000

Chris could have watched her sleep forever. As it was he'd been staring at her for at least ten minutes, watching her peaceful face and halo of curls.

She was his angel.

He lovingly brushed a stray curl from her porcelain forehead, returning his green eyes to study her deep pink lips and softly blushing cheeks.

Molly had drifted to the land of dreams while in his arms shortly after they had reunited completely. She had snuggled deep into his chest, so trusting and innocent. She felt safe with him. It was so obvious.

It made him feel like a man. Protecting her, loving her. . .he wanted to be better for her. She made him want to be the best version of himself. For Molly, Chris would have to be. It was the least she deserved.

The whitelighter turned in her sleep, her back now to him.

Feeling the call of nature, Chris decided now was a good time to answer it.

Before moving from her presence, though, the young witchlighter landed a light kiss on her bare shoulder before slipping away. Her warm skin was soft on his lips, which brought a smile to his face.

After relieving himself and washing up, Chris came out of the bathroom to find a light on downstairs. His curiosity never failing him, he moved toward it. His feet padding down the stairs, the young man was able to see the source of the light was coming from the kitchen.

He moved slowly in the direction of his favorite room in the house, wondering who it was and why they were up at this hour. Had his father gotten one of his famous bouts of midnight munchies? Was his mom having some tea to cure insomnia?

Poking his head into the kitchen, he was surprised to find Casey seated at the table, a bowl of ice cream setting in front of her. As soon as she saw him in the doorway, the spoon in her hand paused in front of her lips and the seventeen year old woman looked exactly like she had the day she and Chris had accidentally broken his mom's stain glassed window during a game of catch.

"I'm not mad," Chris assured her. "After the day we've had, you're allowed to eat anything that will stay down. Our agreement can pick up again tomorrow."

"It's not good for the baby, though, is it?" she said, setting down the spoon with a sigh. She pushed the bowl away and put her elbows up on the table, resting her head in her hands.

Chris moved over to the table, pushing the bowl back in front of her. "I have a feeling it's good for the mommy right now. Besides, eating this is better than not eating anything. And it's got dairy. That's good."

"Nice try."

"Okay, well, do you feel like anything else? I'll make whatever you think might stay down."

"It's three in the morning."

Chris shrugged. "Just means I have nothing better to do."

"Except that whole sleep thing."

"It's completely overrated."

Casey laughed softly. "Is that so?"

"Definitely. Now, what do you want? I'll be your own personal chef. A culinary slave to your every craving."

His friend narrowed her eyes at him. Leaning back in her chair, arms folding over her chest she deduced, "You got laid."

"What? No," Chris answered just a little too quickly. "Where did that come from?"

"You're all. . .happy. Freakishly perky actually. And you aren't lecturing me about eating junk food in the middle of the night. In fact, you are way too accommodating for the Chris Halliwell I know and love."

Chris shrugged noncommittedly. "So what if I did. What of it?"

The moon came out from behind the clouds, the celestial light hitting the side of Chris' face. The young woman's mind instantly flashed to the image of the witchlighter dead in her arms, his face horribly disfigured. Her chest tightened, her stomach flipping over.

"You okay?"

She was visibly startled by the sound of his voice. "What?"

Chris' brows came together. "You uncomfortable with the idea of me and Molly having sex?"

"No. Not really."

The young man looked less than convinced.

Not wanting to talk about the cold fear in her chest, she decided to talk about her other concern instead. "It's weird for me, I guess. Just a little. I mean, the last time I saw you wear that dumb goofy look on your face I was the one to put it there. Plus, there's the whole me carrying your baby thing. It's strange to be knocked up by a man I'm not even with."

Chris sobered quickly, his jaw growing tight. "Do you want to be?"

"With you?"

"Yeah."

Casey shook her head. "No. I think we're better as friends."

"Okay, but you're still not thrilled with the idea of me and Molly."

"Of course not. Would you be thrilled if I started sleeping with Wyatt?"

Chris pulled a face.

"Didn't think so." She gave a little shrug. "Just the way it goes. I'm happy for you, though. It's nice to see you like this. I don't think I ever really have before. Not even when we were together. She's good for you. Calming, I think. Like being with her is the easiest thing in the world."

"It is."

"It's the same with Wyatt. Just comfortable and easy."

Chris frowned, "Why the strange tone? Like disappointed?"

"Not disappointed. Conflicted."

Chris hopped up on the island like he had always done during their late night talks in the past. "I'm always willing to listen, Case. Talk to me."

The young mother took a deep breath, weighing her options. She could lie– easily. She'd learned from the best how to use a grain of truth to mold believable fiction. She could say she was just tired and upset about the day's events. Could even say she felt ill. All of those were true facts. However, the other option, telling the truth– at least about this– might actually ease her mind. If anyone would understand where she was coming from, it might be Chris.

"You won't talk to Wyatt about what I say, right?"

Chris sucked in air, clearly not happy about the question and the position it might put him in. However, after a moment he nodded his agreement to the request.

"When I saw you two today, lying on the floor. . .I thought you both might die. I thought I was going to lose the two people most important to me." She looked over at him, her eyes dim. "And I knew, if I had to chose which of you to save. . .if I could. . .I would save you."

Chris remained silent, waiting for more.

Casey licked her dry lips, numbly returning to gaze out the window. "I think I'm in love with Wyatt. Did you know?"

Her companion shook his head.

"I've thought so for a while now," she continued. "But seeing the two of you, all I could think about was how I couldn't lose you. I just couldn't. Losing Wyatt would've broken my heart, but losing you?" She looked at him again, "I don't think my spirit would ever recover."

Chris pursed his lips, his head dropping as his own eyes fell away to the floor.

"You're not just my best friend anymore," she explained. "You're the father of my unborn child. I have this tiny little part of you growing inside of me, and I feel him now. He's literally a part of me. _You_ are a part of me. Forever."

Still, the young man didn't respond verbally.

"I orbed."

Chris' head shot up, his eyes wide. "What?"

Casey smiled faintly. "Well, Lucas. I would assume so anyway. After all, he's going to be part Elder."

"You orbed? But, that's. . .I mean, he would have to have powers from the womb. From the _womb_."

"Please stop saying womb. It creeps me out." Casey let out a breath. "Anyway, I couldn't stop thinking about it. About how you and I are connected through this tiny life. The orbing just solidified it further. And, even after everything was okay and you and Wyatt were both fine, I couldn't stop focusing on what I would do if I had to chose. Then, I started wondering about other things."

Chris frowned, realizing where she was going. "You wondered what I would do if I had to chose between you and Molly."

"You don't need to answer. It's stupid."

"You."

Casey's head jerked up. "Me?"

Chris nodded solemnly. "You're my son's mom. Period."

The young woman smiled softly. It was all she needed to hear.

"I was a little jealous this afternoon. Dumb, huh?"

"Not entirely," Chris admitted. "I have a confession to make. I've been mildly, sort of, you know, envious of how close you and Wyatt are getting."

"Really?"

"Well, yeah. You're my girl. Always have been. Now, the one person who saw me for more than the Twice Blessed's kid brother is the president of the Mighty One's fan club. I just sometimes worry I'm going to be second best in your eyes too."

"_Jamas_."

"You'll never be replaced in my life either."

Yet, despite the comfort of knowing her place in her best friend's life was equal to the one he had in hers, Casey couldn't get the feeling of utter tragedy and loss out of her heart. Somehow she knew the threat of her dreams wasn't just imaginary, and perhaps this is why she didn't mention them.

000

Molly woke up to a tickle under her nose. Wrinkling it, she opened her sparkling hazel eyes to find Chris brandishing a single perfect rose. She smiled as he trailed the silky petals down her throat, then her chest. He paused the petals just before reaching her bare breasts.

"Morning," he throatily greeted, removing the rose and leaning down to sweep his lips over hers.

The young woman took a deeply contented breath. "Mmm. Now, that's how I want to wake up everyday."

"Hungry?"

"Starved."

"Good," Chris answered, turning and pulling a tray from atop the dresser. Placing it onto her lap as she sat up in bed, Chris uncovered a breakfast made with the utmost care. Hot blueberry pancakes, sizzling bacon, a cup of fresh strawberries and one tall glass of orange juice squeezed by the chef himself.

Molly's mouth fell open as she gazed at the delicious meal before her. She smiled appreciatively at her boyfriend. "You're going to spoil me."

"I'm trying."

"Girl could get used to this," she warned.

"A girl _should_ get used to it."

The whitelighter narrowed her eyes. "What'd you do wrong this time, Halliwell?"

"Funny. Can't a guy romance his girlfriend after an incredible night of passion?"

Molly blushed fiercely as she nibbled at a slice of bacon.

"What do you want to do today?"

"I don't suppose I could convince you to go ice skating?"

"Hey, whatever you want, Babe. If you want to watch me fall on my ass over and over again, so be it."

Molly laughed. "Well, watching your butt is one of my favorite past times. . ."

Piper, without knocking, poked her head into the room. Her eyebrow quirked up as she noticed a less than fully clad girl in her son's bed. She cleared her throat, "Well, I hope you two were at least careful."

"Hey, do you mind?" Chris cried. "This is my room. Knock much?"

"Hey, this is my house. Want to live on the streets much?"

Chris rolled his eyes but said nothing.

Molly fought the urge to cover her head with the sheets.

"Besides, it's not like I didn't know you had sex, Christopher," Piper went on. "After all, this is how I'm becoming. . .well, you know what."

"A grandma?" Chris offered.

Piper pulled a face at the word.

"Mom?"

The Charmed One snapped to suddenly. "You did use protection this time right?"

"Mo-om."

"Well?"

Chris shook his head. "I can't believe this. Yes. I did, okay? Can we stop talking about my sex life now?"

"Fine," she took a breath. "What I came here to tell you in the first place was that your aunts and company are going to be here in a few hours for lunch, so you need to get up, get ready and help me in the kitchen. Molly, you're more than welcome to stay eat with us."

"Sounds great. Thank you."

Piper started out the door before remembering something. "Oh, and, Chris, just to warn you, your cousins know about your situation now. So, be prepared for about a million questions."

"Great. This just fantastic. Thank you, Phoebe and Paige."

As his mother exited the room, Chris moaned and threw himself back on the bed.

"Is it really going to be that bad?" Molly questioned, mildly amused at her boyfriends dramatics.

Chris shot her a look. "Have you _met_ my cousins?"

"Oh. Right."

"Where's a darklighter when you need one?"

Molly slapped his arm. "Not funny."

"Sorry. So, think you're ready for a fun filled day with my entire family?"

"Well, at least it won't be dull. . ."

tbc. . .


	46. Rock You Like a Hurricane

CHAPTER 44

****

Rock You Like a Hurricane

Chris let Molly have first shot at the shower, knowing Wyatt would probably still be asleep. After all, his older sibling was the original lazy bones. If he didn't have to get up for class, the Twice Blessed would probably stay up until two or three and sleep until noon everyday. As it was nine in the morning on a Saturday, the future King Arthur would be in hibernation mode for at least another few hours. 

Once he heard the water turn on, Chris decided he might as well head down stairs to get started on the day's preparations. After all, with his family, a get together was like celebrating a national holiday. Only with a lot more demonic alarm systems involved.

"Chris."

The young man turned toward the sound of the voice. He frowned at the sight of Casey in her baby blue pjs, her long hair dangling around her shoulders. She looked terrible. Her skin was a pale greenish hue, dark circles underlining her eyes, and her hair was in tangles around her shoulders.

"I need your help."

"Glad you can finally admit it."

The young woman scrunched her nose at him. "You are just so funny aren't you? Riot. Really. Now, shut up and help me."

"What's up?"

Casey took a deep breath before claiming all in one breath, "I want to tell Wyatt I love him, but I don't know how. I mean, it has to be just right– after how amazingly great he's been through all of this he deserves a really special evening with romance and magic– not demonic magic but just plain old normal lovey-dovey magic. Get it? Only, I'm all bloated and swollen and gross, and romance is just completely the last thing on my mind, so I figure you have to help me. You did this to me. Fix it."

"Fix it? Exactly how am I supposed to do that?"

"Can I borrow some money?"

"For what?"

"Clothes that fit my weirdly shaped body, and hair that doesn't look all straggly and maybe mood setting supplies."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Weirdly shaped? Straggly?" He quirked a brow. "What kind of mood?"

"Okay, so here's the deal," Casey started again, more excited than he'd seen her in some time. "My clothes are getting too tight. Not maternity too tight, just not comfy, and they bunch in weird places, which is probably a result of my suddenly non-existent waist and ever growing chest. I would like a nice out-fit that doesn't make me feel like Jabba the Hutt. So, maybe, just maybe, I can feel like a sexy woman. Hair too. Hair is important. Look at this," she pulled out a section of her hair for him to examine. "It's all split and dry. My hair has _never_ looked this awful."

"Since when do you even care about all that? You were the one climbing trees and jumping in mud puddles with me and the other guys when we were younger. Playing dress up and going shopping were things you left to Jess."

Casey shrugged. "It's going to be the first time I tell Wyatt I love him back."

"He'll be thrilled just to hear the words."

The young woman rolled her eyes now. "Chris, think about it."

A beat went by before Chris' eyes got wide.

"There it is," Casey confirmed his thoughts.

"Oh god," the witchlighter pulled a face. "I _so_ didn't need to know that."

"Come on, it's not like you didn't already see us in bed together."

Chris started rubbing the bridge of his nose. "And thank you for reminding me of _that_ lovely image. Can we please stop talking about you and Wyatt having sex?"

"Sorry."

"S'okay. Besides, I think you deserve some pampering if it's what you want. How much you thinking you'll need?"

The young woman mumbled something incoherent.

"What?"

She cleared her throat. "Fifty?"

"Fifty? Dollars?"

"No, _idiota_, pesos. Yeah, dollars."

"So, tell me, exactly what happened to your money?"

Casey's face fell. "Oh. Right. Didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"I tried to make a withdrawal for lunch yesterday. The machine rejected my chip, so I called them up to see what was what. Turns out, my account was cancelled and the funds withdrawn."

Chris' lips parted as his bottom jaw fell. It took all of a second to figure out exactly how his friend's funds had been stripped away. "She didn't."

The young woman sucked in her lips, nodding. The struggle with her emotions was clear. "Yeah. Yeah she did. It was a joint account since I'm not eighteen yet, so she decided to use it as leverage. When I called her, she told me I could only get it back when I moved home and forgot about magic."

"I hate her," Chris stated. "Truly and deeply loathe that woman. Your dad never would have put up with this. He would have told her where to go and how to get there."

"I wish I could. As it is," Casey said, "I just plan on showing her she can't win. I'm going to figure out a way to make this work. I'm going to be a good mother, and a successful person. The thought of doing it just to spite her is all the motivation I'll need."

"Good for you."

"So, can I have the loan?"

"You can have the money," Chris answered. "No loan. Just yours."

Casey clapped her hands excitedly before throwing her arms around her friend. "Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you."

It was at that precise moment Molly walked out of the bathroom, toweling dry her curls. She paused mid-step at the sight of her nemesis with her arms around Chris. When she saw the pair pull apart, she forced a smile to her face for her boyfriend's sake. "Casey, hi. How're you feeling?"

"Been better," Casey answered. "But, hey, I figure it can always get worse, right?"

"It definitely can," Molly replied, a hint of frost in her gaze. Her smile grew wider and more plastic. "But it must be awful to have such terrible nausea. I bet the slightest thoughts and odors set you off, huh? I don't know how you're going to handle the restaurant with all the hot grease in the air, the smell of all the fish and not to mention taking out the garbage. I mean, the stench of rotten, decaying food is enough to do in anyone. Well, at least you don't have to clean up the toilets, though, right? Just imagine the messes in there. Yuck."

As a writer, Casey had one very finely tuned imagination. When someone described anything at all, she could picture the item, event or person with vivid clarity– regardless of how vague the description. So, as Molly rattled on about the disgusting aspects of life in a restaurant, Casey could and did picture each and every word with such detail her nose could almost literally smell the grease, fish and rot.

It was only a matter of moments before she was running for the bathroom.

Chris shot a look to his girlfriend, his hands slowly folding over his chest. "Was that really necessary?"

"What?" Molly asked, putting on her best look of innocence.

"I know you hate her, but don't you think torture is beneath you?"

Molly pretended to think it over for a moment before flippantly answering, "Huh, guess not."

She kissed him on the cheek and proceeded down the hall toward his room so she could get dressed. As she tossed the towel onto the bed and threw on her personals, a pair of jeans and one of Chris' long black tees, she heard her boyfriend open and close the door.

"On a scale of one to ten how mad are you?" she asked, not looking at him.

" Little frustrated. Not mad."

The young man plopped down on the corner of the bed, watching as his girlfriend ran her fingers through her curls to untangle them. "She's just my friend. . .well, okay, she's also the mother of my future child, but, Molly, you don't have to be jealous."

"Don't I?" Molly smiled sadly. "I know you, Chris. I know how you think. If push came to shove and you had to chose between us, I know I'd lose."

"Not true."

Molly quirked a brow in doubt.

"Honestly?"

"Please."

"I don't know." Chris ran a hand through his hair. "I wish you people would stop asking me."

"Casey asked you?"

"She was shook up about yesterday. I think there was more to it, but she wouldn't say, and pushing is the last thing to do if you want her to open up. Anyway, she asked me and I sort of just told her what she needed to hear."

"You lied."

"White one."

"A lie is a lie, Chris." Molly folded her arms over her chest. "How do I know you don't lie to me?"

Chris grabbed her hands and pulled her toward him. With his eyes at full intensity he answered simply, "I can't lie to you."

Molly blushed, her eyes forced to look away from his penetrating jade eyes.

"I wish we had the day to ourselves. I feel like we haven't had any time alone in ages," Chris complained. "Just when things get really good again my whole stupid family has to show up." He paused, "We could just orb out of here. Hit Paris, London, Venice. What do you say?"

"Your mother would hunt you down just to blow you up into tiny little pieces."

Chris let out a breath. "I hate it when you're right."

000

Casey smiled softly as Piper placed a steaming mug of ginger tea in front of her. The young woman took the warm cup in her hands, blew on it for a moment and then took a large drink, relishing the hot liquid going down her throat and almost instantly settling her furious stomach.

"Better?" Piper questioned with a small smile. "Paige used to make me ginger tea all the time when I was pregnant with Chris. It was the only thing that helped. Now, with Wyatt, it was banana cream pie. Go figure."

The Charmed One took a seat across from the young woman. Her face was somber. "So, tell me the truth. How are you doing, Sweetie?"

"Okay, I think," Casey answered.

"You and Wyatt okay?" Piper fished.

Casey blushed nodding.

"You and Chris still coping all right?"

"If being freaked out and neurotic is coping then yes."

"The two always work for me."

"Auntie Piper," a chorus of voices called out, the large oak doors of the manor slamming shut a moment later. Before Piper could even fully turn around she was being engulfed in the arms of her two youngest nieces, Prue and Patty.

The older of the two, her hair in a long braid, smiled up at her aunt with total adoration. "We made the dessert. It's sooo good."

"You did? What is it?"

Little Patty giggled, twirling her brown hair around her finger as she swayed back and forth. "It's a surprise."

"Ooh. I see."

Melinda, who was leaning in the entrance to the doorway, rolled her eyes at her sisters before her eye caught sight of the person sitting at the table. Her face immediately lit up. "Casey," she called, hurrying over to the table to wrap the older teen up in a hug.

"Hi, Mel. Missed you too."

"Is it true? Did my stupid cousin really get you knocked up?"

"Melinda Halliwell," Phoebe's stern voice chastised.

Now, she and Coop were in the doorway to the kitchen. Coop was carrying the surprise dessert in a large pan covered with tin foil while Phoebe stood with arms over chest, her eye brows up to her hairline as she stared down her oldest.

"It's okay," Casey defended the other girl. "It was an honest question."

"What's knocked up mean?" Patty asked, her big round eyes going to her mother and father.

"You know, I bet your uncle Leo has some of those candies you like," Piper distracted, ushering the youngster from the kitchen. "He and your– err– Andy are out in the livingroom watching baseball."

As the two younger of Phoebe's daughters both rushed out to find treats, Coop kissed his wife on the cheek, smiling innocently.

"Yes, you can join them," Phoebe answered, almost laughing at his childlike hope. "Go, have some guy time. You've earned it."

"Did I hear something about guy time?" Henry's voice floated in.

As the parole officer poked his head into the kitchen, his twin daughters both rushed over to the table to join Melinda in greeting Casey with large hugs. And questions. Lots and lots of questions. Such as:

"You slept with Chris? What about Molly?"

"What's the baby gonna be? Do you know?'

"Are you and Chris gonna get married now?"

"Does Wyatt know?"

"Have you slept with Wyatt too?"

"Are you gonna marry Wyatt?"

"Is Chris still dating Molly?"

"Where is Molly?"

"Was it worth it?"

Piper let out a long shrill whistle to cut off the ambush.

Paige shook her head. "Sheesh, and I thought demon attacks were rough. Would you girls give it a rest already?"

"Yeah, save some of those penetrating, personal questions for your cousin Chris," Piper suggested.

"Oh, that was cruel," Paige put in.

"I like it," Phoebe stated. "Though, I do have one question myself. How are you holding up, Sweetie?"

"Nausea. Bloating. Occasional dizzy spells."

"Oh, yeah. I remember when I was pregnant with Melinda I had the worst case of morning sickness."

Paige nodded, "I had gas with Henry Jr. Maybe it was a boy thing."

"On that sexy note," Henry said, "I'm gonna find some testosterone."

His wife wrinkled her nose at him before she kissed him and sent him on his way. After her husband had gone she noticed in a quick sweep of the room that one female member of the family seemed to be missing. "I thought I saw Prue's car out front. Where is she?"

"Upstairs with Wyatt. He wanted to ask her something," Piper answered.

"What do you think it was?" Phoebe questioned.

"I have no idea."

000

Prue hadn't really had any ideas regarding the subject her oldest nephew wished to discuss with her. It was odd the young man had requested her presence in the first place. It was made more mysterious by his firm statement on their meeting being just the two of them. No Piper or Leo. No Chris. Just them.

The young man was sitting on the end of his bed in jeans and a white hooded sweatshirt. When she entered the room, he smiled at her, but his eyes didn't seem to hold the usual sunshine she'd always seen when she'd watched the boy from a far. He seemed worried.

"Hi. So what's this all about?"

Prue never was one for beating around the bush.

Wyatt's gaze on her stiffened. The intensity rivaling her own usually piercing study of others. "What we say in here– it can't go past the two of us. Do you promise?"

"I can't promise something like that without knowing what the subject matter is first."

"It has to do with my brother."

"What about Chris?"

"I'm not saying more until you swear this goes no further than us."

Prue folded her arms over her chest, her eyebrows raising in appreciation for his steely resolve. The kid had some of her in him after all. "All right. You have my word. Now spill."

"I had this dream last night. At first I thought it was just a normal dream, you know? But, the details were so crystal clear, and the plot so. . .I don't know. It all seemed a little familiar somehow."

"How do you mean?"

Wyatt let his eyes drop to the beige carpet. "It was flashes, but cohesive at the same time. Like I was seeing things in order, but only snippets of events instead of whole scenes. Like flipping through an album."

"Kind of like what Phoebe's visions used to be like," Prue surmised, taking a seat on the bed next to him.

"Exactly. That's what I'm afraid of. Visions have never really been my thing. I get them sometimes, but I'm more of a walking arsenal of things that go boom than a psychic. The empathy, telepathy– stuff like that– have never come as easily to me as all my other powers."

"But you're wondering if this dream wasn't actually a dream?" Prue shifted her weight a little apprehensive suddenly. "So, why talk to me about this? Why not Phoebe? She's the real psychic in the family."

Wyatt sucked in his lips, holding his breath as his brain tried to come up with the proper words.

He didn't need to. The reason became clear to Prue on its own. "Because she's somehow involved in what you saw. They all are. I'm right, aren't I?"

"It was in the past," Wyatt started. "I mean, it had to be. I was a baby. I had my thoughts, but I was seeing things through little me's eyes. Through the bars of a crib, in a high chair, in someone's arms. . .it was surreal to say the least."

"What did you see exactly?"

"That's the hard part. I saw Chris."

"Why is that hard?"

The teenager's gaze lifted again, meeting her face like a left hook. "Because he was an adult. He was the one talking to me and feeding me and playing blocks with me. He was the one to. . ."

"To what?"

The Twice Blessed swallowed, his gaze quivering underneath the iron bravado. "Tell me if this sounds familiar, Prue. Tell me if Chris ever showed up in the past."

Prue knew the answer. She'd witnessed the entire thing from a distance. It had killed her not to orb over to the manor, shake Piper and her other sisters by the necks and scream in their faces that the annoying whitelighter, as they so dubbed him, was actually their son and nephew. She'd know from the moment he'd arrived from the future that Chris was family. He had their coloring, their attitude, and most importantly, he'd practically said so on a number of occasions. They just were too blind back then to see it.

Besides, he'd done precisely what Prue herself would have done: whatever it took to save a sibling.

However, it was a tale Wyatt and Chris would never know was true. They couldn't. Knowing that much about the future, even one that no longer existed, was far too dangerous. It could alter everything the other Chris had worked so hard to achieve. Not to mention the strain it would put on the brother's relationship– the guilt would undoubtedly consume the Twice Blessed when he discovered the reason behind his brother's jaunt to the past, and Chris would, of course, become obsessed with his fate, wondering what his destiny was to be. Was twenty-three going to be the year he died?

"I think you're letting this dream run rampant," Prue slowly lied. "You said it yourself, visions aren't exactly your strong suite. Besides, I think you would remember if your brother had been in the past. Don't you?"

Wyatt seemed to consider this a moment. "Maybe, but what if I was too little? What if I couldn't possibly remember? Or maybe this is what I remember. What if it's memories I am subconsiously pulling up all the sudden?"

"Subconcious memories? Sounds like a crock to me. You either remember or you don't. What's the first thing you remember?"

"When my dad disappeared for a long time. I remember missing him."

"You were pretty young then," Prue pointed out.

Wyatt nodded. "Yeah, I was. Chris wasn't even born yet."

"So there you go. You have your answer. If Chris had been in the past then, you would remember." Prue rose from the bed and headed for the door. "Now, come on. I'm sure your mom wants you to help her get things ready for dinner. And everybody's already downstairs. They'll be worried if we don't get down there."

As his aunt left the room, Wyatt couldn't stop thinking about his dream. How a man in a robe had stabbed his brother, and Chris had fallen to the ground, the blood slowly oozing from the gaping wound. The pain on the man's face had been indescribable.

_"There's no describing the pain of a mother who's lost her child. It's so much worse than death."_

Wyatt stared at the doorway, his mother's voice still lingering in the back of his mind. Everyone was lying to him. And now, he was sure of it.

000

As soon as Molly walked into the kitchen the younger girls surrounded her, their young voices chittering on about how much they had missed her, how scared and sad they were when they'd heard she'd died and about how they all saw Chris crying about it.

Molly quirked a brow at her boyfriend. "You cried? Really?"

"No," Chris denied. "I don't do that."

Casey coughed from the table, "Liar."

Her friend shot her a death glare, to which she only smiled widely.

"I think it's sweet," Molly put in.

"Or really lame," Perse teased. "I mean, seriously, what a girl."

Chris flicked his finger, sending her chair skittering out from under the young teen.

"Christopher, I saw that," Piper admonished.

Paige shrugged, "She kinda deserved it."

"Mo-om, you're supposed to be on my side."

"No, I'm supposed to make sure you don't grow up to be a brat. I say good for Chris. Learn to respect your elders, Missy."

"I was only joking," she muttered.

Her sister rolled her eyes before turning her full attention to Molly. "So, how are you holding up?"

"Holding up?"

"You know, since. . ." She gestured vaguely at Casey. "I mean, it must have hurt an awful awful lot."

"It did," Molly answered honestly. "But, at the same time, I wouldn't wish the baby away."

"It is going to be nice to have a little baby around," Prairie agreed. "Though, I always did like you better. I wish it was yours."

Casey sat up a little straighter, her grip on her mug turning her hands white.

Paige turned from her place by the counter to shoot her daughter a look. "Manners. Remember those? Your father and I tried to teach you some, but apparently, we failed."

Perse put her arm around Casey. "Hey, as far as I'm concerned you were always aces in my book."

"Thanks?"

"I mean seriously, you and Chris were the coolest couple. You were like kick ass, in your face. Totally what I want for myself some day." Perse, remembering Molly was there, looked up at the other girl. "Not to say you're not great too..."

Molly nodded, completely not buying it.

Chris leaned in to whisper, "Bet orbing around the world doesn't sound so bad right about now, huh?"

Her hazel eyes slid to his face just enough to show how unamused she was.

Melinda, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, suddenly stated, "I don't really care which of you my stupid cousin is with. I like you both. What I want to know is, what's it like, Casey?"

"Kinda uncomfortable at the moment..."

"But you have a little person growing in you. My little cousin. Doesn't it feel like magical or something?"

Prairie asked, "Are you happy it's Chris' or do you wish it was Wyatt's?"

"I– uh– well. . ."

"What is it?" Melinda went on. "Boy or girl? I know my mom had a vision. So, which is it?"

"Boy."

"Have you thought about names? I always liked Aidan or Hayden. Or are you sticking with a 'P'?"

Chris shook his head, "Lucas. Though, he's going to have my middle name, which is a 'P'."

Perse pulled a face, "Lucas? Really?"

"I agree," her twin added. "Lucas Halliwell doesn't sound quite right."

Melinda suggested, "You can always change it still."

"No," Casey firmly argued. "It's going to be Lucas."

Chris softly explained, "For her dad. Ricardo Lorenzo Alvarez. Lorenzo Perry Halliwell. Lucas for short."

"I thought Lucas was his name and Lucky was for short," Molly said.

Casey frowned, "I don't really know where Lucky comes in. It sounds a little like what you'd name a dog."

"Yeah," Chris agreed, "Not sure either."

"Lucky?" Melinda asked. "Why do you have to call him Lucky?"

"That's what he called himself," Chris answered. "Long story."

"Oh," all three teenagers chorused.

Perse turned to Chris, "So, Chris, how exactly is it you managed to knock up Casey anyway? Especially when you're all lovey dovey with Molly? I mean, I thought you were smarter than that."

"Hey, I am smart. I just temporarily. . .wasn't."

Finally, a tiny voice asked, "What does knocked-up mean? No more 'stractions. I wanna know."

The group of teens turned to find little Patty standing in the doorway with Leo, her face covered in some sort of chocolate substance. The man let his eyebrows go up as the little girl asked the ultimate question.

The girl's mother smiled widely, her nerves clear only to those old enough to understand her trepidation. "Well, sweetie...it's sort of like. . .um. . ."

Piper smirked, "I thought Ask Phoebe had all the answers?"

"Casey is going to have a baby," Chris answered softly. "Mine. That's what it means."

Patty smiled. "Neat."

Molly put her hand on his arm, smiling sympathetically. She turned to the other girls, "Maybe you guys could stop with all the questions now? Enough is enough. Chris and Casey have enough to deal with."

"What about you?" Prairie quietly questioned. "It isn't fair to you."

"No. Or Wyatt either. It is what it is though. I don't like how the baby was made, but I do like the fact he was made. You all should too. He's going to be your cousin after all. A brand new Halliwell."

Chris took her hand, giving it a grateful squeeze.

That was about the time Casey started glowing a dark purple, a force field coming up around her.

"What the. . .?" Chris started.

He didn't get to finish the thought as Zayel appeared a moment later in all his dark glory. He held up a finger as Piper raised her hands of fury. He grinned. "Wouldn't do that if I were you."

"You're not me."

"Mom, don't."

"Why the hell not?"

Chris stared down his enemy. "Because I think he's here to tell us how to vanquish the Triad."

"He really is the smart brother," the demon confirmed. He looked over to Casey, noticing the shield up around her. "I see our arrangement is still in full affect as per our deal. Wouldn't your daddy be proud if he could see you now?"

Casey rose from her seat, but was stopped from attacking the demon by Phoebe's hand falling to her shoulder. The teen shook free, grabbed her mug and promptly orbed from the kitchen.

Molly's head whipped to Chris. "She orbs now?"

Chris turned his head to look back at his father. "Dad could you please. . .?"

Leo nodded, picked up Patty and left the kitchen to find the girl carrying his grandson.

"Midnight tonight in the same place Belthazor had his coronation. The Triad plans to unite the underworld, informing one and all of their return from the demonic wasteland. It won't be easy to get to them. Demonic guards will be everywhere, but I imagine for the Charmed Ones and the Twice Blessed they'll pose little problem?"

"We can handle ourselves," Paige agreed.

"Good. Tonight, I expect the Triad to die." His crimson eyes turned to Chris, "If they don't, your child does."

tbc.. .


	47. Hells Bells

CHAPTER 45

Hells Bells

Henry Junior hadn't wanted to come to the manor. He knew it was just going to be a bunch of grown up talk and girly giggling. He hated all the stupid girls in his family. They were always picking on him. If it weren't for Wyatt and Chris, he'd orb away to Antarctica and play with penguins or something. Maybe, he would visit some African jungle and go on adventures with his trusty monkey sidekick. After all, every adventure hungry young lad needs a good monkey sidekick.

As it was, he was stuck sitting with the grown up boys, which while better than being stuck with girls, was still not so much fun as playing with penguins or adventures with monkeys.

Though, his Uncle Coop did do a mean impersonation of a monkey when asked...

"Come on, get to the ball," his dad was yelling at the television.

Baseball was so boring. Hit the ball and run. Hit the ball and run and get out. Don't hit the ball at all and get out. Booooring. Where were the cartoons?

"Can I go upstairs?" he asked after about the third inning of a scoreless game.

"Don't you want to watch the game with your old man?" Henry asked, a little disappointed his son still hadn't picked up an interest in sports yet.

"Chris still has some of his old games. Can't I go play?"

Prue rolled her eyes at her cousin before turning her attention back to the game. "Oh, please, that was so in. It was in right, Andy?"

Andy, who'd been rather quiet up to this point, softly smiled at the young girl named for the woman he loved. "I think it was in, but what can you do? If the ump says foul ball, I guess that's it, right?"

"Fight it. If something is right you gotta. Otherwise nothing changes."

"I see you take after your namesake."

"Really? How?"

"From what I can see, you're just as passionate as she is. Not to mention you have the Halliwell good looks," he added with a wink.

The little girl blushed a little. Though, it didn't take long before she was scooting closer to the detective on the couch, a new found crush fully developed.

Meanwhile, Henry Jr. was off to find games. Racing up the stairs two at a time, despite his father's insistence on walking, the young boy ran straight into his big cousin's bedroom, not noticing the closed door for an instant. When he found one of the dreaded girls sitting on Chris' bed, he stopped short, surprised at who it was.

Casey looked up as the door banged against the wall. Smiling softly she greeted the youth, "Hi there handsome. Long time no see."

The little boy lit up, running over to the bed, jumping up and wrapping his arms around the teen. "Hi, Casey. Mom and Dad said you were back, and I wanted to say hi, but all the stupid girls were there, and they kept talking and talking and being all stupid, and I didn't wanna be there with them, so I didn't say hi. But, now, you're all by yourself, so I can."

The young woman couldn't help but smile at the little boy's enthusiasm. "Well, hi back. How've you been? You've gotten really big. Last I saw you, you were still a little boy, but now, you're almost all grown up, huh?"

Henry grinned proudly. "Uh-huh. I lost my last baby tooth last summer. I got a dollar for it."

"Whoa. That's a lot of money. What did you do with it?"

"I bought some candy."

"Good choice."

Henry's little brow furrowed suddenly. "How come you're all by yourself? Everybody is downstairs. Did you get bored too?"

"No, not exactly," Casey answered. "I just wasn't feeling real well, so I thought I would come up here and rest."

"Am I bugging you?"

"Never."

"Good," he smiled. "Molly says that too– that I could never ever bug her. Molly's really nice. Have you met her?"

"Oh yeah. We've definitely met."

"Isn't she awesome? She plays with me and listens to me and even kissed me once. Don't tell Chris."

Casey's brows rose. "She kissed you, huh?"

Henry nodded enthusiastically. He pointed to his cheek. "There. For New Year's Eve. I think she likes me better than Chris. I'm gonna marry her someday."

His companion feigned hurt. "Hey, I thought we were getting married someday?"

"I can marry you too."

The boy was so earnest Casey didn't have the heart to tell him about the illegality of polygamy. Instead, she just kissed his cheek. "There. Now, you've gotten kissed on both cheeks. One for each wife."

The little boy turned a little red, his head ducking. When he looked up, he noticed she looked happier than she had when he'd come in. "You better now?"

"Yeah, I think I am."

Leo stuck his head in the door, worry creasing his brow. He entered the room, Patty in his arms. The little girl was half asleep, her head resting on his shoulder. He quietly asked, "Casey, are you okay? Do you need to talk about what happened downstairs?"

"No. My fiancee made me feel much better already. Thanks, Leo."

When Leo's eyes doubled in size, Casey explained, "Henry here has promised to marry me when he gets older, and I've accepted."

Relief of an indescribable nature flooded the adult's face as he realized what was going on. Once the confusion had been erased, he just smiled. "Oh. I see."

"Hey, since you're all here. . .wanna play a game?" Henry asked.

And no one could say no to his smile.

000

Wyatt didn't know what he was searching for. He wasn't sure there was anything to find, really. He just had to look. So, up in the attic, digging through old boxes of family relics, he tried to keep the image of his nightmare out of his mind while hoping to find some clue to explain it away. If no explanation served to eradicate it, Wyatt at least wanted to know what he was up against.

"Yes, Piper, the potions are still ready," Phoebe's voice floated up the stairs a moment before she appeared in the attic.

"Well, excuse me for making sure we were prepared," Piper sniped back, pausing halfway through the door when she saw her oldest son amongst a pile of open boxes and scattered objects.

Paige ran into her back. "Ow. Hey. Watch it, Lady. People walking here."

"Wyatt, sweetie, what are you doing?"

The Twice Blessed looked up just as Chris and Molly squeezed through the door. His eyes caught Chris', the image from his dreams tearing through his mind's eye like a blade. He shook his head to clear it. Mumbling, "Lost something. Thought it might be up here."

Prue, who had met the troops halfway down the stairs and had been filled in by Piper, narrowed her eyes at her oldest nephew. After their conversation a few minutes prior, she didn't buy the answer one bit. Apparently, he hadn't exactly boughten hers either.

"So, what's going on?" the blond youth asked, changing the subject.

"Zayel," Chris answered gravely. "We're supposed to vanquish the Triad tonight or else."

"Or else what?"

Chris' sage green eyes lowered to the floor, his jaw tightening.

"Oh." Wyatt got to his feet in an instant. He let out a breath, pushing his preoccupation with the future (or was it the past?) to the side. It was more than evident his little brother need him now, here in the present. "What do we know?"

"Well," Phoebe started, "we know the when, the where and the who. Problem is really the how. See, apparently the Triad isn't going to be alone, so not only do we have to deal with them, but all their little demon friends too."

"I say we load up on potions, and just do this," Chris stated. "We're the most powerful witches the world has ever known, so why exactly do we need to waste time deliberating?"

"Whoa there, Cowboy," Paige cut in. "Trigger happy, much? Powerful and awesome as we may be, you don't just go into a lair of upper level demons and start tossing potions around. They don't like that. It kinda ticks 'em off, which pretty much means they want to kill us even more than usual."

"Well, excuse me for not wanting to sit around here and pow wow while my unborn child is being used as blackmail."

Molly squeezed his hand gently, her eyes locking onto his. As soon as her hazel had captured his green, the young whitelighter could see him let the tension and fear go slightly. He'd always said her presence soothed him even in the worst moments. "The Charmed Ones know how to deal with this, Chris. Just trust them."

The young man pursed his lips nodding in reluctant acceptance.

"Hey, am I missing the party?" Andy asked.

"Who's with the kids?" Phoebe asked.

"Casey's watching them. She figured she should probably sit this one out."

"Damn straight she should," Chris and Wyatt both said simultaneously.

"Language."

"Sorry, Mom." "Oops, sorry."

"Anyway," Andy continued, "the handful that they are, Henry, Coop and Leo thought they should stick around here and help her. I, on the other hand, would much rather deal with demons than all powerful children."

Prue's gaze lowered. She wiped her bangs back behind one ear, partly to cover the look on her face from Andy.

"Illusions," Phoebe said.

Paige pulled face. "Huh?"

"Like with the grimoire all those years ago...remember, the wizard?"

"Unfortunately," Piper bitterly answered.

"Well, he used illusions to draw away the guards– divide and conquer. Why can't we do the same thing?"

Prue said, "Not to point out the obvious, Pheebs, but no one here is a wizard. How exactly do you plan to create illusions that powerful?"

Chris' gaze shot immediately to his older brother. "You could do it."

Wyatt pursed his lips, drawing in a deep breath. His eyes went dark as he stared at nothing.

"Wyatt?" Chris tried again. "Dude, come on. You have every power known to man. I know you can create some stupid illusions."

Molly, more sensitive to the dramatic alteration in the Twice Blessed's mood, stepped toward him, her hand falling lightly to his arm. Her eyes gently sought out his. "What's the matter? What doesn't Chris know?"

"It tears you," he answered. His eyes lifted to Molly's. "Creating illusions like that. . .it hurts– a lot. I'm not a wizard; illusions don't come naturally to me, so every time I summon one– a really believable one that is– it tears part of me. It's like it uses part of my essence to create something new."

"Why didn't you ever tell me that before?" Chris asked.

His brother shrugged. "Never came up."

"How about a spell?" Piper suggested. "Like the Mr. Right, only a variation on it. Just give them someone else to chase?"

"I'll do it," Wyatt cut in. "I didn't say I wouldn't."

"No," Chris argued. "No way, Wy. Mom's way will work, and it won't hurt you."

"Illusions are faster and I can control their actions, their words. Not to mention I can throw out multiple versions. It's the safest way. I'm doing it, Chris, and that's final."

Piper opened her mouth to disagree with her son, but the look he shot her made her close up her lips again. It reminded her far too much of Prue to dare to argue.

"Potions check. Plan check," Paige turned to her sisters. "I think that pretty much covers it right?"

Prue smirked, "Then I think we have a Triad to vanquish."

000

Molly was staring at him again. With the look. The one where he felt like a little kid who's mom was about to warn him to look both ways before crossing the street. She was worried about him. Fine. Did she have to keep staring at him though?

"Molly, I can't focus with you staring at me," Wyatt finally announced, his eyes opening from his meditation and locking in on the woman standing watch over him. "I'll be fine. Quit with the hovering."

"I'm sorry, but I don't like this. I don't like this at all. You were scared back in the attic, and now, you're doing the very thing you were scared to do, which pretty much makes you either completely selfless or a total idiot. Maybe both. It could definitely be both at this point."

"I'll be fine," he ground out, closing his eyes again. "Just be quiet long enough for me to do this so we can all get the hell back to our normal lives."

Molly's soft brow crinkled, her brows furrowing. "You sound more like Chris than yourself."

"Yeah, well my brother always has been good at getting the job done. Just taking a page out of his book."

The whitelighter slid down the cave wall to sit on the floor next to him. "It's more than that. You never talk that way. Not once have I ever heard you so. . .snippy."

"Whatever," Wyatt answered with a sigh. "Can we not do this right now?"

"Okay, fine. I'm sorry for caring about your well being. I'll stop now."

She expected him to apologize at this point. It's what the Wyatt Halliwell she'd known for over a year would have done.

Instead, she was met with pure silence. No apology came, nor would it ever come.

"I'm in," the young man finally announced. "Shit." He winced, "I'm not sure how long this is going to hold."

Molly looked up at the ceiling. "Hopefully long enough for them to do what we came here to do. . ."

000

Chris and Prue waited in the shadows, watching for the first signs of chaos. For a long while, nothing happened. Just murmured chanting of demons. Latinating, as Chris had dubbed it.

"How you holding up," Prue asked.

"Fine."

Prue quirked a brow. "Now, see, why don't I believe that?"

"Stubborn, I guess."

"Yet another thing I think we have in common."

Chris couldn't help but smile at that.

"You know," Prue started again, "if you ever need someone to talk to, an adult who won't judge or harp or anything like that. . .I'm here for you."

The young man lifted his brows. "No harping? No trying to fix it? No offense, Aunt Prue, but I really don't buy you have it in you."

Prue wrinkled her nose. "All right, fine. I would try my very very best not to. How's that?"

The teen laughed lightly. "Fair enough. I'll keep it in mind."

"Good. I've missed out on a lot, and I want to try to make it up somehow."

Chris' eyes settled intently on her grey. "You will."

Prue gave him a half smile, grateful for the show of confidence.

"Come on, Wy, where are you?" Chris muttered, the grip on his potion bag turning his hand white.

Prue lightly slapped her nephew's arm. "Up there. Look."

Wyatt suddenly came running around the corner, followed by three of the Source's former guards. As the blond teen skidded to a halt, three more enemies shimmered in front of him. With energy balls flying through the air in both directions, the Twice Blessed was cut down in quick time, but instead of blood or cries of pain, it was as though an image had short circuited, the picture simply disappearing.

Prue and Chris stepped out from their places in the shadows then. As Prue flung the group into the opposite walls of the cavern, her nephew hit the fallen demons with the potions he was toting. Each and every one went up in hot flames.

"Round one down and out," Chris said. "How long before reinforcements show?"

"Speak of the demons."

Six more demons all came running around the corner. Obviously, some sort of distress signal had been set off, and they'd come to aid their comrades.

They lasted just about as long as their fallen friends.

"This is almost too easy," Prue noted with a hint of a grin as Chris finished off the last of the later arrivals. "We make a very good team. Wouldn't you say?"

"We're good. No question. Must be a telekinetic thing."

Prue smirked. "Smarter than your average witches, right?'

"Clearly."

"Well, let's just hope my sisters are having as easy of a time as we are."

000

"I hate the underworld," Paige whined, her foot landing in something she really didn't want to know the nature of. She kicked her foot out trying to toss the slimy substance off. When it didn't come, she scraped the sole of her shoe on a nearby rock.

"You hate the underworld?" Phoebe scoffed, "at least you weren't ever the Queen of it. This cavern? It brings back some pretty bad memories."

Andy, who was tagging along after them, ready to heal at a moment's notice, suddenly halted mid-step. "Whoa whoa whoa. Back up there. Queen of the Underworld? You? No way. I'm not buying it."

Phoebe pulled a face. "There was this boy. . ."

"'Nough said," Andy cut off.

Piper snickered.

The matriarch poked her head around the corner into the coronation room, but kept her body pressed back against the cave wall, insuring safety if seen by enemies. What she saw was a quickly emptying ceremony. Demons of all levels were fleeing the scene at remarkable pace while the Triad in all their evil glory were shouting out orders from the center of the space.

"Looks like Chris and Prue are about to have their hands full," Piper quietly said, her motherly concern threatening to make her order Paige to Chris' side immediately.

Andy closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them he announced, "They're okay. From the feel of things, Prue's actually having fun. Think Chris is too."

"Figures," Phoebe muttered. "Leave it to Prue and Chris to have fun getting ambushed by demons."

Paige shrugged, "Well, vanquishes always have calmed down Chris. Remember when he was a baby? He'd get fussy and Leo would bring him down here for a few good vanquishes and the kid would be out like a light."

"Not funny," Piper said. "Now, can we please get this over with before my son gets more than he bargained for?"

"Talking about me?" Wyatt asked as his orbs appeared behind his mother.

Phoebe frowned. "Where's Molly? I thought you two were supposed to stay together?"

"She went to see if she could help Chris and Prue." He stuck his head into the antechamber. "They're alone. Let's finish this."

The Charmed Ones and Twice Blessed stepped into the adjoining chamber, surprising all three members of the notorious trio of evil. The group prepared to disappear to safety, but one wave of the Twice Blessed's Arm locked them firmly in place.

"How?" asked the female member, horrified.

"We should have known when the guards didn't return."

"Only the Charmed Ones are capable of such intrusion."

"Thanks," Paige beamed. "You know, some demons think we're rusty and less kick ass than in the good old days. It's nice to hear we're still the big bad Charmed Ones. Makes me all warm and fuzzy inside."

Piper raised her vial. "Should have known better than to come after our family. Big mistake. Huge."

Her vial hit first, removing the woman with a satisfying display of pyrotechnics and horror film worthy screams.

Phoebe and Paige followed suit, their potions making contact with the remaining members of the Triad, each going up in flames as well.

"Well, that was sure easier than it used to be," Phoebe commented. "Think there's something up?"

"There's always more to it," Andy remarked, his brows knitted in concern. "Question is what?"

Wyatt winced, rubbing one temple. Even through the pain, he noticed something off about the scene. "Where's the rest of the demons? I only drew out the Source's former guards. So. . .where'd everyone else head off to?"

000

Zayel watched as demon after demon arrived to his above ground apartment. Each bowed, one after the other, their lips uttering respect and honor unto him. He basked in the feel of the power buzzing in the room, all of which was now at his comand.

"The archaic rule of the Triad is gone once more," he started, "due in large part to your assistance in my plan. Those loyal to the old powers of darkness have been removed by our enemies while those willing to look to the future I have in store for younger, more witting minds stand before me as a united force of evil. Together, with myself as your leader, we will conquer the Charmed family and the line of good. No more old fashioned plans of brute force. Nor battles completely futile in hope. We now have a more powerful strategy. Destroy the human aspect of our enemies and we conquer good magic. To do this we need to focus on what all humans long for: a legacy. The Halliwell child must be destroyed, and I have a most inventive plan in mind."

A figure stepped out from the back room of the apartment, her golden hair glistening brightly as her sharp blue eyes cut into each demon in the room.

"I would like you to meet the one person who can simultaneously destroy the Twice Blessed witch and ensure Lucas Perry Halliwell never sees the light of day."

One of the upper levels bowed in front nearly choked in surprise. "But. . .but she's _human_."

Zayel grinned. "Which is why they'll never suspect a thing."

tbc. . .


	48. Can't Say I Love You new ed

Whew, okay, I think I FINALLY fixed all the stupid formatting issues, so I am now reposting what hopefully is a coherent chapter. Also, if you already read it, go ahead and skip down to the end, I added a tiny little blurb from Wyatt just so people have a hint of what's going on.

CHAPTER 46

**Can't Say I Love You**

Two weeks had passed since the Triad had been vanquished. Life had seemingly gone back to normal. As normal as it ever could be that is. Which, for Chris, wasn't normal at all. School was harder, his concentration too frazzled to be able to learn anything. Work was a nightmare trying to get his own service completed while simultaneously helping Casey get through hers without throwing up in an entree, which was becoming trickier all the time, especially with Richards constantly on both their cases. Home? Home was different. Molly was around a lot again, which was good, but she still wasn't getting along with Casey, which was less than great. Wyatt was acting funny. Moody was a good word for it. And Case? Well, the toilet was a closer friend to her at this point than he was.

However, lying in bed one lazy afternoon, Molly snuggled up against his bare chest, Chris was finally feeling like maybe things weren't so bad. After all, he had a girlfriend he adored, and who loved him back, and they were together again. In just this moment, everything was calm and quiet and peaceful and relaxing and did he mention peaceful?

"Am I okay?"

Chris was instantly pulled from his melodious and slightly sleepy thoughts. "What?"

Molly shrugged a little, her cheeks flushed red, which Chris assumed was due to their having just finished making love a few moments ago.

The young woman was looking particularly thoughtful, though. The look wasn't evaporating either. She had something on her mind, and when she had something on her mind, Molly always always always wanted to talk about it. Under normal circumstances, it was fine. He didn't mind. But right now, in the calming affects of sex, Chris just wanted a nap, and trying to stay awake enough to listen to her was going to prove a difficult feat.

"Am I good at all," Molly tried again. "I mean at sex."

Chris' brows shot up. He turned his head to look down at her. "What?"

The young woman lowered her soft eyes. "I was just thinking about how you're the only person I've been with, but you have experience, so I don't really know if I'm, you know, doing it right or not, but you'd know because you have a reference."

"Doing it right? Molly, I don't think there's a wrong way to do it."

"There's always a wrong way," she countered. She flipped over to her stomach, holding herself up on her elbows. "I mean, you enjoy it, right? It's okay?"

"Molly," Chris whined, putting his head back down on the pillow. "Why are you even asking me? This is stupid."

"Not to me it's not. I want to know."

Chris peeked out through his drowsy eyelid. "You're not going to let this go are you?"

"No."

"You're fine," he answered. "Nothing wrong at all. Promise."

"Fine, but not great. Not mind blowingly great."

"I can't believe we're having this discussion."

"Well, how can I improve? Is there something you want me to do that I'm not?"

"Molly, no. Just no. You're fine. It's fine. We're fine. I love you. I love sex with you. Isn't that enough?"

"Is it better with me than it was with Casey?"

And there it was. The one question he knew was coming but had hoped to whatever power was listening she wasn't actually going to ask.

The young man let out a breath. Turning toward her, he cupped her face in his hand. "Look at me. I'm with you. I love you. You are the only one I want in my bed. The only person I think about when we're together. You need to stop now, though. You have to stop being so insecure about yourself."

"That wasn't really an answer," Molly pointed out, eyes narrowed a little. "So, she's a better lover than me."

"That's not what I said. I never even mentioned her."

"Exactly, which means you're afraid to."

"No, I'm not. I'm just not going to dignify that sort of question with an answer. What my sex life with Casey was isn't really anybody's business. Not even yours. What you need to realize is–I'm not comparing. It's not how my brain works. When I'm with you, I'm with you. Period."

Molly let out a breath, realizing how she was behaving was really upsetting her boyfriend. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be a pain. It's just. . .she's there all the time, you know? And proof of your sexual escapade is right in front of me and growing every week. I can't help but think about it."

"Meaning?"

"She's all latin and hot and I'm all german-irish and me." Molly blushed. "I'm not exactly the type of girl guys fantasize about seeing naked."

Chris pursed his lips, his brow crinkling just slightly. "Molly, do you remember what you used to think when we first got together? How you imagined you weren't pretty, and how no guy would ever want to dance with you or kiss you? I did. From the moment we met, I was hooked. I saw who you really were underneath all the insecurity, and it was this strong, feisty, beautiful woman. I still see her. Despite everything that's happened to us over the past few months, she's still there, and against what has to be her better judgement, she still loves me. And that?" He grinned, his green eyes flashing mischievously, "So hot."

Molly smiled, rolling her eyes at him.

"I don't know how many years of my telling you you're beautiful it's going to take before you _finally_ believe me."

His girlfriend sucked in her lips, ducking her head a little. "I do believe you think I'm beautiful. I think I'm pretty now. I do. Just. . .sexy? Not terribly."

Chris took her hand, entwining their fingers. "Well, I guess I'm going to have to point it out to you, huh?"

He lowered his lips to the sensitive flesh of her neck, his breath hot on her ear when he paused to whisper, "This neck? The curve, the softness. . .sexy."

He moved his mouth to hers, capturing her pale pink bottom lip, sucking lightly on it before delving more passionately into the new area with his tongue. Gentle, slow, but etched with real passion, his kiss slowly and reluctantly ended, his green eyes locking on her hazel. "That?"

Molly smiled. "Let me guess...sexy?"

"You have no idea."

"So," she tilted her head to the side, her smile immovable at this point. "Want to continue the tour? I'm enjoying it a lot so far."

"Practice does make perfect..."

Molly let out a laugh, her fears eradicated. Her arms slipped around his neck, lowering him to her, the two of them falling backward onto the bed again. Her fingertips dug into his muscled back, gliding down while her mouth lavished attention to his shoulders and firm chest.

With heavy breath, Chris let his hands roam up every lovely curve of her body. His mouth left a hot, moist trail from her neck, down her collarbone and paused on her breasts, making the young woman moan in more pleasure with every moment he lingered.

"_Dejame sola, Pendejo._"

"Sorry. I don't speak _mexican_. How about you try some good old fashioned American for once if you want to cuss me out and tell me what a jerk I am."

Molly pulled away, frowning toward the door. The voices seemed to be just on the other side of it.

"I can't believe you're talking to me like this."

"Well, I told you to back off. Did you listen? No. You never do. You're incapable of following the simplest of instructions."

Molly's eyes shot to Chris'. Her voice lowered. "What is going on out there? I thought Casey and Wyatt were supposed to have their big date night tonight."

"Guess it didn't quite pan out."

Chris tried to recapture the moment, moving to catch her lips again, but the woman brushed him off, her attention locked on the door. With a sigh he asked, "Mood's shot, isn't it?"

His girlfriend didn't even answer, her brow just continuing to grow ever more creased.

"_Instructions_? What the hell? Who do you think you are getting high and mighty with me, Wyatt? Especially, when all I've done is plan this night for us. I bent over backwards trying to make this special."

"Yeah, bending over is your speciality."

That got Chris' attention. "He did not just say that."

"Is there a chance he's possessed or under a spell?" Molly asked, more than a little seriously.

Skin hit skin. The slap resounded through the door.

"That can't be good," Molly murmured.

"Better her than me. I'm about two seconds away from getting up, marching out the door and kicking the living shit out of him."

"He's your brother."

"Never stopped us before."

A door slammed. Judging by where the sound was coming from it was Wyatt's bedroom door.

Mere moments later soft crying floated on the air.

Chris shot a look to Molly.

His girlfriend let out a sigh, nodding in permission.

As she scrambled to find and put on her clothes, her boyfriend just grabbed the nearest pair of boxers. Once he was covered, he pulled open the door. "Case?"

The young woman was sitting on the floor against the wall, tears having worn off her mascara, which left long black trails down her cheeks. Her brown eyes lifted up to his face, the whites of them nearly turned completely red through her crying.

Without hesitation, Chris moved to squat next to her, putting his arm around her. "Shhh. It's okay. Come on, let's go in my room. Get you cleaned up a little."

She only nodded, letting herself be led.

As they entered the room, Casey spotted Molly perched on Chris' bed and put two and two together. She rolled her eyes. "_Mierda_. I just keep ruining everything don't I?"

"Sort of," Molly retorted.

Chris sent her a look.

"I didn't mean it in a mean way," Molly answered. "Just in a factual type way." She realized he wasn't getting any happier with her, so decided to change the subject. "So, what happened?"

The young woman shrugged, tears still slipping off her lashes. She roughly wiped at them with the palm of her hand, trying to blot them out, but more just kept coming. She bit her lower lip, sucking in air and shaking her head helplessly.

Chris guided her to the bed, setting the distraught woman between himself and his girlfriend. Somewhere in the back of his mind he realized this was probably a bad positioning move, but it didn't register as terribly important in light of the current circumstances.

"I like your hair," Molly offered after a few moments of awkward silence. "The chopped, shaggy look really fits the frame of your face. The new chin length is especially flattering."

Casey frowned at the other girl in a combination of confusion and slight amusement.

"My mom was a beautician," Molly explain, a little embarrassed. "I know a lot about hair."

The other girl just nodded in an 'oh' type of response.

Chris suddenly realized, "You cut your hair. Wow it's so short."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Way to catch up, Chris."

"How could you not notice?" Molly wondered. "It went from the middle of her back all the way up to her chin."

"I see that," Chris remarked. "I was just more concerned with the crying and shouting to notice the hair. My mistake."

"I'm going to be a mommy," Casey explained softly. "It seemed prudent. Babies grab stuff like hair. And I think I look a little more mature. Better look it if I don't feel it."

"It's nice," Chris tried. "Just...really different."

Molly nodded, her natural instincts taking over. She couldn't stand to see people cry. Even if they weren't her favorite people in the world. "The outfit is very nice too. New?"

The other girl nodded. "Yeah. For tonight." Mumbling, "Wish I had never bought it, all the good it did."

Chris shook his head. "This is stupid. Why are we talking about hair and outfits when we should be talking about what just happened out there. I'm sorry. I know even after all these years of being surrounded by them I still don't understand women, _but_ don't you think it might help to actually try to fix the thing that's actually wrong here?"

"Men. Always trying to _fix_ stuff," Molly muttered. "You can't just fix what happened, Chris. Can't you see she's really upset? Give her a minute."

The young man's brows rose to his hairline. "Uh...kay..."

"He's right, though," Casey defended. "About needing to talk it through. I do. Because what happened just makes no sense to me at all. It was supposed to be our one night alone. Romantic and perfect and instead it was probably one of the worst nights I've had in a long time."

"So, tell us what happened," Molly encouraged her. "Maybe one of us can shed some light on it. After all, we know and care about Wyatt too. We might know where he's coming from."

Casey let out a long breath. "It all started out just fine. More or less. . ."

_The young woman turned around in front of the mirror in the bathroom, smiling at her reflection. Her straggly ill-kept hair had been trimmed to a nice short shag with fringe bangs. The dark circles under her eyes had dimmed with some much needed rest over the last week courtesy of Piper and Leo's care. Make-up covered the rest. Best of all, the gaunt nature of her face had gotten much better. Kip had brought over a basket of ginger based food product that had really helped settle her stomach._

_With a little help from Chris' money, Casey believed she actually had managed to make herself somewhat attractive again. Hair and makeup complete, she'd purchased a wardrobe to knock Wyatt's socks off. She was wearing an emerald green wrap dress with metallic silver heels. The dress hugged her chest while flowing out from the waist, accentuating the good while hiding the currently expanding. Meanwhile, the heels did wonders for her legs._

_Now, all she had to do was find her boyfriend and glow in joy has his jaw hit the floor._

_Practically skipping out of the bathroom, the young woman headed toward Wyatt's room only to find the door open and no one inside. She frowned in the doorway. He had said he was going to be getting ready. So where was he?_

"_Upstairs," Chris' voice had interrupted her thoughts._

_She turned around to find the young man just leaving his room. "Huh?"_

"_Wyatt. You know, tall, blond guy. Upstairs in the attic."_

"_Yeah, got that. Why is he in the attic?"_

_Chris shrugged, clearly not concerned. "How should I know. Hey, what do you think of this cologne I got?" He held out an arm._

_Casey took a quick whiff. "Hmm...I'm not feeling nauseated in the least. That's got to be a good sign considering."_

"_Gee, great selling point there. Does not make women want to puke on you. Buy now."_

"_Hey, works for me. I'm assuming you're more worried about Molly's opinion though."_

"_You and Wy aren't the sole owners of date night. Me and Molly haven't had a night alone in ages. If it's not demons it's future babies and the associated evils said baby does to its mommy. Not that I don't _love_ holding back your hair at all hours of the day and night while you puke your guts out. Anyway, Mol and I are going to have a night of home cooked food, movies and...you know."_

"_You can say the word, Chris."_

"_But, I'm not going to."_

"_Fair enough."_

"_Mhmm."_

"_Have fun."_

"_Plan to. You do the same, Babe." _

_Chris gave a little wink before turning and jogging down the stairs. After hearing the front door shut and a car door start after a few moments, Casey realized he was picking up his date the old fashioned way. Kind of sweet really._

_Casey shook her head in amusement before trotting up the stairs to find Wyatt. The attic door, as always was open. However, what was different was the man standing in front of the pedestal flipping through the book of shadows, a pen in his mouth and a notepad in his one free hand._

"_Hey, what're you doing?"_

_Wyatt didn't even glance up. "Looking for something."_

"_Okay. . ." The young woman moved closer to him, trying to peek at the book to see what he was after. However, he closed the cover immediately. She flinched as it slammed. "Is there a demon we need to worry about?"_

"_No."_

"_You sure? I mean, one perk of being pregnant is the added power boost. I might be able to help if there is."_

_Wyatt's eyes grew steely and cold. "Nothing can."_

"_What?"_

"_Never mind. It's not important right now. What did you want?"_

_Casey gestured a little awkwardly at her dress. "I thought our reservations were in half an hour. I'm pretty much ready to go whenever you are..." Noticing his long sleeved tee and jeans, "Which, I thought you were doing– getting ready I mean. You're not even dressed yet. . ."_

_The blond rose to his feet, a dark look still in his blue eyes. His jaw was tight as he headed straight past her. _

_A little thrown, the woman questioned, "Where are you going now?"_

"_To get dressed," he replied harshly. "Remember? You were the one just nagging me to do so."_

_She blanched. "I didn't mean. . ."_

"_Whatever. I'll be ready in like five minutes."_

"So, what do you think he was looking at?" Molly asked, shooting her question at her boyfriend. "Any clue?"

"None. It's actually been freakishly quiet on the demon front since we kicked the Triad's ass," Chris answered.

"Why would he be looking in the book then?"

"I don't know. It's not like Wyatt to go looking for trouble. That's more my thing."

Molly and Casey both responded, "Yeah, I know."

Chris shrugged. "Hey, there you go. Something you two finally have in common. Disapproving of my obsession with demon hunting."

"Anyway," Molly started, "what happened next?"

"It just got worse. . ."

_Wyatt was on edge. A blind man could see it. The way he was so completely tense sitting at the table, his hands practically white as they gripped the menu. His jaw never seemed to unclench. And then, there was the silence. The never ending ever awkward quiet between them._

"_So, I had my doctor's appointment for the month yesterday," Casey tried. "Chris has the other copy, but. . ." She dug in her purse, pulling out something on shiny photo paper. "It's the baby's first sonogram. The new technology is pretty great. I mean, you can make out what each tiny little part is. Want me to show you?"_

_Wyatt finally lowered his menu, his eyes drifting over to the image she held out to him. _

"_This little round part here? It's his head. It's just tiny. I couldn't believe it when I saw it. Doctor said he's about two inches long. Crazy huh? Then this right here," she pointed a little lower to the left, "his arm and his little hand and look– fingers. I mean, they kind of don't look like it yet, but they are there._"

_The Twice Blessed pursed his lips as he listened, his gaze never leaving the miniature picture of his nephew. "He's so small and. . .helpless."_

"_Helpless? I don't know about that. He's got me and you and Chris and– "_

"– _Where the hell is the waitress?"_

_Casey did a double take at the quick change. "What?"_

"_I've got no water, we've been waiting for like fifteen minutes. I already know what I want to eat. I just want to get this over with."_

_The young woman across from him shrunk in her chair, her face burning. "Get it over with? It's such a chore having dinner with your girlfriend?"_

"_Stop that," Wyatt lowly ordered. "You know that's not what I meant."_

"_Do I? You've been treating me like a non-person all night. It's the first real date we've had, and you're not even here. Not really."_

"_Maybe I have more important things to be doing, all right? Maybe, I don't have the luxury of dreaming about the future and planning for bouncing baby boys and blue nurseries and all the _shit_ that doesn't matter when the thing that does matter is–" He cut himself off short, sucking in air._

_Casey glanced around the room as every other table turned in their direction, whispers floating just out of earshot. Her cheeks turned red and warm. "Please, lower your voice."_

"_Oh, so now, you're embarrassed to be with me? Who cares what these people think? You think they matter? That any of them have any _clue_ what really goes on?"_

"_Wyatt, what _is_ going on? You're scaring me. You've been acting off for weeks and now this."_

"_I'm scaring you, huh? I thought you liked moody, brooding types. Worked for Chris."_

"_Why are you picking a fight with me?" Casey questioned, truly hurt. "Whatever is going on with you. . .I want to help. I lo– "_

_The young man cut her off, "You can't help me. You can't even help yourself, Casey. I mean, seriously, you're a disaster."_

_Her breath caught, tears burning the backs of her eyes. She wouldn't let them fall. "I may be a disaster, but you're a real jerk."_

_Pushing her chair away from the table, the young woman hurried to the doors of the restaurant, throwing herself at them, slightly pleased as they crashed back against the walls. Once free of the confining space, she hurried down the sidewalk to hail a taxi._

"_Don't be stupid."_

_She refused to look at him. "I'm going home. Tonight was clearly a bad idea."_

"_It's too dangerous for you to go home alone at night. I'll orb us."_

"_I can take care of myself."_

"_Yeah, because you've done a bang up job so far, right? Pregnant at seventeen, hunted by every demon in the underworld– one of which you made a deal with unknown consequences with– and best of all, you picked the wrong brother to have a kid with. He's going to leave you all alone."_

_Casey's head whipped around, "Excuse me?"_

_Sadness was marked in Wyatt's eyes. "I wish I could tell you. Warn you. I don't know how, not without ruining everything. Besides, it might be better this way. Especially considering who I might be meant to become. Just. . .learn to stand on your own two feet. Now rather than later. Or you'll fall without a single person left to catch you."_

"_What are you talking about, Wyatt? Cut the cryptic crap and tell me. Why are you acting this way? What's happened to you?"_

_Wyatt changed again. His face taut with an effort to maintain unfeeling features. "Maybe, I'm sick of bailing you out. Maybe, I just wish you would grow the fuck up. Stop whining, stop blaming life for what it's done to you. Take some damn responsibility for your own fate. Most of all? Stop playing me when I know you want Chris."_

"_Wh-what? How can you...? I came here to tell you I loved you. You. No one else."_

_The Twice Blessed didn't flinch. "Maybe, I don't love you after all."_

"_You don't mean that...What's wrong? Wyatt, please..."_

"_Just back off, Casey. I don't love you. Get it through your head and then leave me alone."_

Casey sniffled, shrugging off the last of her tears. "That's about it. He took my wrist, forced me to orb here with him, and then, I'm pretty sure you heard us finish it off out in the hall."

"I can't believe he said that," Molly quietly stated. "It doesn't sound like him. Not at all."

Chris rose from his spot on the bed, marching toward the door. "No way. This is not happening. He can't do this. Not this time."

"Chris?" his girlfriend questioned.

"He gets bored," Chris snapped. "It's his m.o. He takes on the most challenging woman he can find, and then after he's gotten what he wants, he turns tail and runs. Ever since puberty he's been a player. He thinks I don't know it all, but I pretty much hear enough to put the pieces together. I thought you were the one woman he'd really fall for. The one he really loved. Now this? Shit. You know, I knew there was a reason I didn't want you two together. I knew. I knew something like this was going to happen, and now, I'm stuck. He's my brother. I love him, but right now, I want to kill him. A lot."

Casey shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I just. . .I just want to go to bed. I'm so tired."

Molly rose from her place on the bed. "I'll just get going then. Let you rest."

"Wait," Casey pulled the sonogram from her purse. "I was going to give it to Wyatt, but. . .I think you deserve it more. Chris and I already have a copy. You keep this one."

Molly stared down at the little person on the paper, the images hard to decipher but miraculous to behold none the less. "Me? Really? But why?"

"Because you're actually in this for the long haul like me and Chris," the other woman explained. "A step-mom of sorts from what future-Lucas said. He loves you. You should have this copy."

"Thank you," Molly responded, a little choked up at the gesture.

Casey stared out the window. "Maybe Lucas was right all along. . ."

Neither Chris nor Molly knew what she meant, but neither felt the courage to ask for clarification either. Something told them the meaning was far too dark to handle at the current moment. And times were dark enough as it was.

000

Wyatt didn't like to drink. He never had. Drowning sorrows was his baby brother's deal. Alcohol did nothing to soothe his mind or heart. It only ever made the pain worse. The pain was unbearable enough as it was.

So, he tried his father's method– meditation. Calming the soul through quieting the mind. Only his mind wouldn't shut up.

He had told the only woman he'd ever loved he didn't want her anywhere near him. After she'd braved her fears and uttered the three words he'd only ever longed to hear her say to him, he'd told her he didn't return her feelings.

He'd lied.

For weeks he'd been hunting for a way to save his brother. A way to figure out exactly what he was up against and how to stop it. He wouldn't and couldn't let his sibling go to the past and die. Finally, he'd come across someone who'd be able to tell him what he needed to know. Someone who could see it all and tell him what had forced his sibling's hand in going to the past, and how to prevent his nightmare from becoming his future.

He'd found a powerful seer in the underworld.

He'd lied to the woman he loved because the Seer had shown him the truth.

The truth was harsh and unfair but now he knew. Chris was probably going to die, and it would be his fault. Casey too.

He had to cut them out. Cut them out to save them. One down, one to go.

tbc. . .


	49. Days Go By

bit of a filler chappie but the next one is going to have a lot of jumping around so this sort of sets up for that.

CHAPTER 49

**Days Go By**

Saturday at the mall was like surviving in a jungle– every creature for themselves. Each person was on the hunt either for something or someone. Teens prowled about every corner, eying expensive items they couldn't afford and hot members of the other sex they could never catch. Members of the species were stampeding about, pushing and shoving their way to their various destinations.

The food court was the local watering hole. Line after line of people stood waiting for their burger and fries or slice of pizza. Table after table of hungry people swamped the area, their talk deafening into a monotonous buzz of noise.

Casey was surprised she could hear Jessica at all as the girl continued to talk about her insomniac adventure the night before.

"...then I just couldn't resist," she concluded.

Kip, whose face was covered in ketchup from his double cheeseburger, swallowed the last large piece, nearly choking on it before adding. "Can you believe it? She's the only person in the world who would buy a pink taser."

Jessica narrowed her eyes at him. "Hey, in a city like this a girl could use some protection, and _some_ people don't have active powers. Besides, pink is my favorite color."

"I'm surprised you aren't going to deck it out in rhinestones too," Casey teased.

Her friend wrinkled her nose before producing a package of rhinestone stickers from her purse. "I actually just bought them..."

When her two companions started laughing, the psychic merely shrugged, "What? I like sparkly objects." She excitedly started waving her hands, "Ooh, ooh, ooh. That reminds me. Prom is like a month away, I thought we could shop for dresses."

"I don't wanna wear a dress," Kip complained. "I hate my legs."

"Hardy har har," his girlfriend droned. "Case, what do you think?"

"I think I'm not going to Prom."

"Why the hell not?"

The other girl shrugged. "Exactly who am I gonna go with?"

"Chris will-"

"-Will want to take Molly, I'm sure."

"Molly's dead," Jessica stated. She pulled a face after considering her words. "I mean, sorta."

Kip grinned, "That sure would start a riot– Chris arriving to Prom with a dead girl. Come to think of it, seeing the looks on everyone's faces just might be worth exposing magic."

"I don't want to go," Casey firmly stated, staring down at her long empty dish of chili cheese fries. "I'm not sure they make maternity prom dresses. Besides, I'll probably spend the whole time having to pee."

Kip pulled a face, lowering his soda slowly back down to the table before muttering, "Okay, not liking the Mello Yellow as much now..."

"I'm serious. A dance is the last thing I want to do. It's full of couply type people who are all hanging on each other in a 'get a room' sort of way. Romance of any kind is a big N-O for me right now. I might accidentally blow someone up. Plus, dancing with swollen feet? Not so fun I'm thinking."

"All right already, I get it. Sheesh." Jessica sipped her rootbeer. "If you don't wanna go we can skip it. We'll still have our senior prom next year."

"I hate to break up the party," Kip announced, "but my shift starts in twenty, and you, My Dear," he looked over to his girlfriend, "are my ride."

Jessica let out a breath, shooting a concerned look to her best friend. "You'll be okay?"

"Always am."

The other girl pulled a package out of her purse. "Here. I got these for you. It's full of chocolate-peanut butter truffles, cures heartbreak every time." Handing the package to her friend, she bent down and landed a kiss on the top of Casey's head. With hand on her friend's cheek she assured her, "No matter what _I_ will always love you."

Feeling slightly teary, Casey replied, "I love you too."

"I may not love you, per se," Kip started, "but I like you a whole bunch...is that helpful?"

The shorter of the two girls laughed. "Yes. Thank you."

"All right, you," Jessica turned to her boyfriend, "lets vamoose."

As the two headed off toward the parking garage, Casey leaned back in her chair, eyeing the package of truffles like a bear might eye a fish in the stream. Snatching up the package and unwrapping it, she was just about to pop one of the delicate treats into her mouth when she felt something stir inside of her.

Placing the truffle back in its slot, she lowered her hand to her stomach. It took another moment before the sensation happened again. A tiny little flitter like being tickled from the inside.

A smile crept onto the young woman's face. "Hello, _mi lucerito_."

As the flutter swept through her again, Casey let out a little laugh, patting her stomach lightly. "I can't believe I can feel you already. You're really with me. I mean I knew it before, but now. . ." She shook her head, her eyes still glowing down at the ever present bump in her tummy, "I'm not alone after all, am I, _mijo_?"

000

Chris stared at the top of Wyatt's head. Okay, glared at the top of his brother's head would be more accurate. He was trying to test whether or not anger could really be felt. He wasn't sure at this point, but it was at least making him feel better.

"Chris, if you have something to say, just say it," Wyatt mumbled from his spot on the love seat where he was reading a history text for class. He didn't even bother to look up when he added, "Or go away. Whichever."

"I'm not going to go away. It's been over a week, and you still haven't told me what demon possessed you. I can't vanquish it if I don't know what it is that made you completely lose your damn mind. Or you could just confess what an ass you are, and we can move on from there. Whichever," he mimicked.

Wyatt let out a breath before slamming shut his book. "You really want to know? Because I've been trying to save you the details since she's a friend of yours and all. Truth is she's a needy, clinging, pathetic mess, and since she refused to put out, I got bored. After all, a guy can only take so much poor-me before he's got to move on."

Chris narrowed his eyes, leaning slightly back in his chair. "You're a lousy liar. If you would've played it down, I would have come to that conclusion on my own. After all, your track record leads to the worst conclusion. Did actually. But, now, I know something's up. You aren't sounding like yourself. The Wyatt I know would at least feel guilty if those words were true. You laid it out way too thick. So, what's the truth? And why the lie?"

"Has it occurred to you, Little Brother, that I don't need your help on this? That the situation is none of your business?"

"You need someone's help," Chris argued, "otherwise you wouldn't have thrown away the best thing to ever happen to you. Don't tell me she wasn't either. I can still read you like a book, and every inch of your face tells the truth. You can't lie to me, I'm your brother."

Wyatt slammed his book down on the table, "And sometimes I wish to hell you weren't. Do you have any idea how much better things would be if you were someone else's problem? I'm so sick of looking after you, feeling like I have to protect you because you are incapable of protecting yourself. You're always getting into messes you can't dig out of, and who has to rescue you? Me. It's always me all the damn time, and for once I wish I could live my own life without having to worry about you."

Chris set his jaw, hiding the hurt the words had unveiled. "You don't mean that. You're pushing me away. It's classic me. What I don't get is why _you're_ doing it. What's going on here, Wy?"

The Twice Blessed stared down his sibling, his eyes hard. "You say you can read my face. Pay close attention to it. I resent you, Chris. I hate how I've been brainwashed to put your needs first, to always look out for you even if it means hurting myself. I save you from demons, from heartache, from life's every problem. And I'm sick of it. I'm sick of being the golden boy hero."

There was a pregnant pause.

"Tell me, Chris, am I lying?"

The younger boy dropped his gaze to the floor.

"Yeah, that's what I thought. Now, leave me the hell alone."

Chris watched as his brother dematerialized into swirls of light, cascading up through the ceiling to who-knows where. And for the first time in their relationship, Chris truly wondered if his brother cared about him out of any genuine fondness.

000

Molly frowned as she picked up a dark purple cardigan from the display shelf of the store. It was a good color for her, but as usual they didn't have her size. Shocking. She put it back down.

"Molly?"

The girl's eyes grew wide at the sound of the voice. She recognized that voice– would recognize it anywhere. It was a voice she'd longed to hear almost as much as her mother's. So, despite her better judgement and the preaching of Prue and Andy, Molly did exactly what she knew she shouldn't. She turned around.

Bryan's mouth fell open, his skin paling as his eyes grew wider and wider by the second. The boy swallowed thickly, his head shaking ever so slightly in disbelief and what might have been. . .fear?

"Bryan?" she asked softly.

"This isn't possible," he uttered. "It's not real. It can't be."

Molly licked her lips, racking her brain trying to come up with the words to say. What words were there, though? He was her best friend, and she'd technically died. He'd seen her funeral, been to her grave site. How could she tell him the truth? Then again, how could she let him live with the lie?

"Am I hallucinating? Is that it?" he questioned. "Are you real or some figment of my imagination?" The young man closed his eyes, pursed his lips and shook his head bitterly. "What am I asking? Of course this isn't real."

"Bryan, it's me. I just. . .can we go somewhere to talk?"

"Talk? You and me? Talk. You're _dead_, Molly. D-E-A-D. And me? I'm apparently crazy. Nutzo. Wacked out. In need of a head shrinker."

Molly glanced around the space before pulling her friend back toward one of the changing rooms. She pushed him into an empty space, took his arm and then orbed. When they rematerialized, she noticed him stumble slightly backwards until he hit the edge of her bed.

"What was that?"

"I'm an angel, Bry."

Bryan glanced around the room, his brows rising. "In a house? An angel in a house? With clothes and deodorant and. . .are those condoms on your dresser?"

Molly blushed fiercely. She hurried over to them, stuffing them into the drawer before turning back around. Letting out a deep breath she tried to explain. "Okay, I'm an angel, but not like the kind you might think. More like a guardian for good people. I breathe. I eat. I," she blushed again, "have sex. I'm still me. Just...a little more special."

"You were always special, Molly," Bryan automatically qualified. He then frowned. "Wait, who does the dead girl have sex with?"

"That's what you focus on in all this?"

Bryan shrugged, "I'm a guy."

"Chris. He's special too."

"How do you mean?"

"It's sort of complicated, but in any case, our paths crossed again, and we're together and happy."

Bryan's jaw grew tight. "And when were you planning on telling me you were okay? I mean, aren't angels supposed to be benevolent? Do you have any clue what the last months have been like for me? The pain and sorrow nearly killed me. You are all I have in the world. From cradle to grave you and me."

"I couldn't. I was ordered not to. The powers that are in control of this crazy world didn't know you'd react so well to all this. Most people would still be freaking out about the whole angel thing. Plus, I can't even tell my own _mother_. Do you have any idea how much that hurts? Not seeing her? Talking to her? But, I know her well enough to know she'd never accept the truth. About angels and the rest."

"I've always believed in angels, Molly. You know that. So, why not trust me?"

"What about magic?"

"What?"

Molly patted the spot on the edge of the bed. "I think it's time you learned the truth, Bry. I do trust you, and I've missed you, so I'm going to prove it. Take a seat. I'm about to blow your world wide open. . ."

tbc. . .


	50. Time in a Bottle

All right everybody, here goes. This one is trying to cover the rest of the pregnancy so I can move on to the climax of the story, which will hopefully be worth the wait. AND those of you hating what an idiot Wyatt's been lately, well, good news: he gets a wake up call first thing ;)

Almost there, people! Yay!!! Now, on with the show!

CHAPTER 50

**Time in a Bottle**

_March_

"_You knew him?"_

_The Valkyrie eyed Wyatt suspiciously, her piercing blue gaze going straight through him and sending chills up his spine. "Christopher. He went by Chris Perry then. He was not your sibling. Not the boy we've watched grow in your home."_

"_You've watched him?"_

"_I have."_

"_Why?"_

"_Time has little meaning for us here. We merely wait for the signs of the end when ourselves and our soldiers must engage in the final battle for good. Normally your events have no significance to us. They are grains of sand in a dessert. _

'_However, he appeared in our land with a letter from our leader, Frya. It was from her future self. It seemed she knew him to be the leader of a great resistence. Our powerful Frya obeyed his commands, trusted him as a warrior of greater skill and cunning. She called him our only hope, and ordered us to do whatever he bid during his time here.'_

'_We helped him on one occasion. You needn't worry on the details. Just know this, he was not soft, lighthearted or innocent. Though young in age, his spirit was quite aged– a man in every way imaginable. He was manipulative, daring and do not mistake yourself– he killed those who got in his way or when it would lead him to his end goal.'"_

_Wyatt swallowed, trying to absorb all this information about the man he had only known during his earliest youth. "I'm assuming you don't mean just demons, huh?"_

_She shook her head. _

_The Twice Blessed let out a long breath. "Did he ever talk about. . .me?"_

"_Not as you are now. You as you are were just a dream in his head. The you which once existed. . .a nightmare of his reality." _

"_Myst," Wyatt softly questioned, "Did you love him?"_

_The warrior let a trace of a grin caress her face. "No. I was infatuated with his aura. There was power, will, courage, yet cracked was his iron armor, and I wanted to deepen the chasm to reveal the true warrior's soul."_

_The Valkyrie tilted her head slightly, her gaze again unnerving. "He's not in your brother. They all thought he was born as the new baby, but he wasn't. I don't sense the same warrior in the soul of your sibling. You have nothing to fear in losing him, but everything to fear in trying to save him."_

"_What does that mean?"_

_Myst turned from him, raising her pendant to open a portal for him to leave by. She gestured for him to enter it. "My final words to you, Twice Blessed: the man I knew cannot be saved, and as a warrior who died for his cause he would hate you for trying to change his fate. His death brought about your brother's life. Your new life. I knew him well, so heed my words, Youth: Leave him dead and buried in the past. A true warrior is happiest dying for his cause, and he was the truest of warriors."_

The conversation with Myst had been almost a month past, but Wyatt still hadn't made head nor tail of what to do with the information she'd presented him. The Seer had told him the basics of the future (or was it past? Present?) and the details had drawn him toward separating himself from those he loved in order to protect them.

The Seer had said he had somehow been drawn to evil, and the world made to suffer under his hard rule. She hadn't said what had turned him, just that the answer had lain in the past, which was why Chris felt he had to travel through time in order to fix things. Wyatt already knew what happened then: Chris died saving him. What worried him was it might be his little brother's fate too– after all, if Chris never goes back, no one will fix what happened in the past, and the cycle begins again. A true time paradox.

Wyatt thought maybe it was better if he died in Chris' place. Maybe, he could make his little brother so despise him that when the time came, and the Twice Blessed turned, Chris wouldn't hesitate to just kill him. After all, Wyatt didn't fear his own death, but the idea of losing Chris terrified him.

Then there was Casey. . .

Lucas had said her death was his fault. Perhaps it had something to do with everything going on with Chris? Perhaps, he would turn evil and refuse to heal her or directly cause her death somehow? He didn't know. All he knew was it was probably safer for her to be on her own.

Yet, the talk with Myst had thrown all his plans for a loop. She said stopping Chris from going to the past, or trying to change the events of the past would ruin everything. If she was right, then he had no business interfering. Interference would only lead to more destruction.

Confused and unsure, Wyatt did the only thing he could think of to do. He cast a spell to reveal the answers he so desperately needed. . .

_Chris, older, more worn looking, sat hunched over a cold metal desk. The room was tiny, more like a closet than an actual living space. A single bulb hung overhead, barely illuminating the area. Cobwebs were hanging in the corners and a draft ran through them blowing them gently._

_The door suddenly swung open banging against the wall. A familiar looking woman was standing in the doorway, her arms crossed over her chest while her eyes pierced into the top of his little brother's head. "Tell me it isn't true."_

"_You'll have to be more specific," came the tired response._

"_Chris, tell me you aren't really thinking about traveling back in time in some crazy ass hope of fixing all this."_

_Chris set down the stack of papers, leaned back in his chair and regarded the intruder with an almost gentle gaze. "Perse, what choice do I have? We can't last like this much longer. Our supplies are running short, and eventually, Wyatt's going to figure out how to undo my cloaking spell and don't kid yourself– my barrier around this place won't stand a chance against a direct assault by Wyatt."_

"_Then we fight him here as a family. Halliwells stand together just like they always have."_

"_Except we aren't together anymore. Wyatt's gone and declared himself source. The world has become his own personal playground, and family is starting to mean less and less to him, which is ironic considering how all this started."_

_Perse lowered her gaze. "I miss Aunt Piper too, but she wouldn't want you to do this, Chris."_

"_Oh, and she'd be thrilled if I murdered my own brother? Because those are the options I'm looking at," Chris finished with raised voice. "If we don't stop Wyatt one way or another, more people are going to die. Have you even looked at the city lately? It's not faring so well."_

"_The world would be better if you did kill him."_

_Chris set his jaw. "I can't."_

"_You have the power."_

"_Perse, you can't ask me to do that."_

"_He killed my sister. Your cousin."_

"_I told her not to go," Chris argued. "She was the one who had to push him, and we all know how his royal highness gets when pushed."_

"_And my little brother? What did he do to incur the wrath of the Twice Blessed? Or our cousins? Huh? Tell me, Chris. What excuses do you have for Wyatt on their accounts?"_

_Chris let out a long breath, shaking his head. "I don't have excuses. I just. . .Wyatt's confused. Something happened to him. He doesn't understand the difference between good and evil anymore, and he thinks we're betraying him while all he wants to do is protect us."_

"_You still love him."_

"_He's my brother."_

"_He's my cousin, but I would kill him in an instant. Know why? He's not family anymore, Chris. He's the enemy."_

_Chris pursed his lips, staring down at the desk in front of him for a long while before quietly admitting, "I hate him. Sometimes, I think about killing him. Ending all of this for all of us." His green eyes darted up to his cousin's shocked face, "But then I remember what happened after mom died and dad bailed on us. He took care of me, Perse. Even as his mind got twisted and broken, he still had something good in him. In his own messed up way, he loves us. He calls me brother and allows me to get away with things he would have killed others for a long time ago. You think he's really so naive as to not know who's running this base? He knows. He just turns the other way. Mom always used to say evil is incapable of love, and I truly believe with everything in me that he can be saved because he cares– strange as it sounds. I can't give up on him. I'll die first."_

_Perse seemed to hear his words and truly take them in as she nodded slightly, wrapping herself up in her arms. After a moment, she asked in silent acceptance,"It was her idea wasn't it? For you to go back to the past?"_

"_We worked on the idea together."_

"_How long are you going to be gone?"_

"_Month or two. I've got to get the Charmed One's trust and then I can work on finding what changed Wyatt."_

"_Do you really think this is a good idea, Chris? I mean, if you think it is, really and truly, I will support you because you're the only family I have left that isn't nuts, and I love you and trust you. So? Honesty time. Any hope here?"_

"_If I succeed, none of this will have happened. Prairie and the others will be alive. The world will be like it used to be. That's what we all really want, right?"_

"_In other words, you aren't sure." Perse lowered her head. "It seems to be just a dream, Chris. No one can change history. Not even you."_

"_I have to try. I would rather die fighting for our family and the world than sit here and wait for it all to come crashing down. I promised Aunt Pheobe and Aunt Paige I would protect this family, and I mean to keep my promise."_

"_Why can't you keep it while staying here with us? You're the leader of this resistence, Chris. Without you we'll fall. No one can keep the magical community united like you can, and no one can out smart Wyatt like you either. If you go, we'll end up in his hands."_

_Chris rose from his place at the desk, moving toward his little cousin. His hand fell to her shoulder, his green eyes shining down onto her pale face. "Perse, when I'm gone, I want you to take over. You'll be the last of the Halliwells then, and people still respect our family's name, no matter what Wyatt's done to it. We represent hope for them. So, give them hope. Tell them what I'm doing. Let them cling to the possibility that I might be able to undo all of this. Let them dream of a place where they don't have to exist in terror, and where the city is beautiful and safe again."_

_Perse sniffled nodding. "I wish our parents were here. They'd know how to fix this."_

"_I'm going to them, Perse, and you should know they won't let this happen, right? Our moms would never want this life for us. They'll listen to me. I'll make them. Even if it's the last thing I do..."_

Wyatt was pulled back from the spell then. His answer had been handed to him. If he loved his brother, he would leave things alone. He would let the future play out as it had to. After all, a Chris in heaven had to be better than what the other Chris had gone through for so many years. Stopping Chris from going to the past would mean putting him back in the hell he'd fought so hard to get out of. Wyatt wouldn't be so selfish as to do that.

_000_

"Can I talk to you?"

Casey looked up from her bowl of pasta to find Wyatt standing in her doorway, a soft and almost timid look about him. She eyed him warily, not sure what to think or if she should even let herself think. As Chris always was telling her, thinking only got her into trouble.

"Okay, I'll make it short," Wyatt continued, braving his fears and slowly entering the room. He paused just at the end of the bed, watching her reaction carefully. When she didn't change expression, he decided to continue. "Something happened to me a few months ago. I can't really talk about it, but it made me feel like I had to push everyone away to protect them. You and Chris, I mean. That's why I was acting the way I was."

The young woman didn't move an inch, her eyes neither faltering from his face nor showing any type of reaction to his words. She seemed like a robot, merely observing some strange sort of human ritual she couldn't quite comprehend the meaning of.

"I don't know how to fix this," Wyatt tried. "I messed up. I get that. What's meant to be is meant to be and even I shouldn't tangle with destiny and fate because I might end up just making everything worse."

The mother to be took a spoonful of pasta to her mouth, chewing the food mechanically while her speaker took a moment to figure out his next words.

"I love you," Wyatt ventured. "When I said I didn't, I was trying to hurt you, to get you to stop caring about me, which I might have done a little too well. . ."

The spoon clinked into an empty bowl, which she set on the dresser next to the bed before returning her gaze to the other witch. Still no emotion could be found in her brown gaze.

"I'm drowning here, Casey. I really could use a little feedback here. Tell me you hate me, never want to see me again. Something."

Casey had wanted this. She had wanted to see him beg and plead and feel the hurt she had suffered when he'd denied her the reply she so wanted to hear from his lips. Yet, the longer he spoke, the more she felt her heart reach out to him until Casey was finally forced to admit, despite her best efforts not to, she still loved Wyatt Halliwell.

The question became whether or not she would be willing to put it out in the open one more time.

"So, I, uh, guess I should go then," Wyatt awkwardly announced, running a hand through his hair, hoping beyond hope for some sort of response.

The young woman finally met his gaze, true emotion allowed to seep through for the first time. "I hated you for what you did. I wanted you to suffer and be miserable and. . .I wanted you to hurt like I have been hurting. I wanted it for a long time because you knew how I hard it was for me to admit how I felt. I don't trust easily, but I trusted you, and you hurt me."

The other witch's words were soft, "I know. I'm so sorry. If I could take it back. . ."

"You can't." Casey swallowed, fighting against her nature to continue. "That was one of the beautiful things about me and Chris. We didn't need the words. Neither of us could say them, and the other understood. But when we do finally get the courage to actually utter those words, we both expect total fidelity and mutual respect and to have those feelings returned. So, when I said them, and you told me I was pathetic and you never loved me. . .I couldn't deal."

"Why are you telling me all this?"

"Because I remembered something you told me once. About loving someone despite their deepest flaws. Through good and bad. I want that to be true. I want that to be how it really is."

"How can I prove it to you?"

Casey sighed, shaking her head. "I don't know if I want you to. I need to grow up. You were right about that. I need to stand on my own and figure out who the hell I am. I don't know if I can do that with you."

"You can; you were before I messed it all up." Wyatt risked taking her hand, smiling when she didn't pull away. "I'll say it first: I love you. I swear to you, I will never push you away again. We can grow up together, figure life out together. Just give me one more chance."

Casey looked into his eyes, saw the genuine love within their gaze and felt her resolve slipping. She nodded in acceptance. "One more chance."

000

"So, are you ever planning to speak to me again?"

Chris' eyes slowly slid up to his older brother's face. Wyatt had apologized quite some time ago, giving some lame ass excuse about 'going through a rough patch' or some such thing. Truth be told, the younger teen didn't really give a damn. Right now, Chris' life was one big rough patch, and he had needed his brother's support.

"I bought something for you," Wyatt tried. "Actually, it's sort of for the baby. . ."

This caught the brunet's attention. So, sticking his notebook inside his math text, he pushed both aside and regarded his sibling curiously. "Okay. What is it?"

The Twice Blessed pulled a little box out of his pocket handing it to his brother. While Chris opened it to discover a tiny leather necklace with some sort of emerald amulet attached to it, the older boy explained, "It's a protection talisman, which I blessed for an added power boost. If a demon gets anywhere near the baby, it's going to send up the same force field I have, and they'll get a heck of a shock too."

"Shiny," Chris appreciated with a little grin. "Thanks, Wy."

"So. . .are we going to be okay?"

Chris shrugged, "You going to stop acting like an ass?"

"Going to try."

"Then we're good."

0000

_May_

Casey stared down at her protruding belly. "_Mierda_."

"It's not that bad," Chris tried. He nudged Molly with his elbow.

His girlfriend nodded enthusiastically. "It's actually very, uh, feminine."

The latina quirked a brow. "It's pink and lacy and I sort of what to kill myself just a little." She pulled on the top of the maternity pants, "and these? Who the hell came up with this? It's like I'm a damn kangaroo or something."

Molly fought not to laugh and ended up snorting.

"See, she agrees."

Chris tilted his head to the side. "Okay, so it's not exactly you, but it's not bad. I mean, you're five months along. You're bound to show at this point, and regular clothes just aren't cutting it. You said so yourself."

"I hate this. I'm an ass kicking witch, I should not be wearing pink frilly doll tops with kangaroo pootch pants. I want my leather and biker boots damn it."

"After the baby is born, I will personally buy you all the biker boots you want," Chris again tried to soothe.

Molly pulled another shirt off the rack, "Purple? No lace and minimal maternity look to it."

Casey let out a breath, shrugging. "Okay. I'll try it."

The soon to be mother snagged the hanger from Molly and was about to turn into the dressing room when a middle aged woman started heading in her direction with a particular glow in her eyes that the young witch had recognized as the 'I'm going to rub your belly' look. She turned to look at Chris, a strong glare in her gaze.

"Ooh, look at you," the stranger cooed, hands already stretching out toward the expectant mother. "When are you due?"

"I'm not pregnant; I'm just really fat. Don't you feel shitty now?"

Chris' jaw dropped while Molly burst out laughing.

The woman had no idea how to answer, so merely went sputtering off in total shock.

Casey turned to find her best friend shooting her what was a strongly disapproving look. "What? I'm sorry, but it was either that or I freeze the entire store. I mean, what rule is there that says a pregnant woman's stomach is public property? It's ridiculous. I am not a fat bald man whose belly being rubbed brings luck, okay? Besides, what if it had been the truth? Maybe, now she'll stop to think before assuming things about total strangers."

Chris slowly took the garment from his friends clenched hands as she finally stopped waving it about like a crazy woman. "Case, you're scaring the baby daddy, okay? How about we buy what you have so far, and then go grab some ice cream." He asked, almost frightened, " You still like ice cream right?"

"I'm not in the mood for ice– nachos." Her eyes lit up. "I want nachos. With lots of _jalapenos_. And _guacamole_– not the cheap packaged crap either, but the homemade kind like my dad used to make. And _salsa_ _verde_. Mmmmm."

Molly whispered to Chris, "I think she's gone to her happy place."

Casey suddenly gasped, her mouth falling open. "_Ay dios mio_!" She quickly grabbed Chris' hand putting it against her stomach. "Feel that?"

"Feel wh– ?" Chris'face went slack, his eyes suddenly dropping down to her stomach. "Is that. . .?"

"Mhmm. I've felt him for awhile but this is the first time it's been so strong."

"Is he kicking?"

"I think so."

A smile slowly spread over Chris' face, his green eyes growing soft and illumined. "That's our son." His eyes lifted to Casey's. "Our _son_."

Just as Molly was about to awkwardly turn away and leave the two parents to bask in the moment, she felt Chris grab her hand. "You've got to feel this. It's so. . .I can't even describe it."

Molly looked into Casey's face, "Is it okay. . .?"

The other girl nodded, smiling softly. "You're his whitelighter, not some random person. Of course it's okay."

Casey then watched as her former enemy's face lit up at the first tiny beat against the palm of her hand. The petite girl quietly echoed Molly's unspoken thoughts, "Like feeling a miracle."

All Molly could do was nod. She'd never felt anything quite like the feelings she was experiencing in this moment. Joy and fear, envy and respect. Most of all, she felt like she was in the presence of something so much larger than herself and her daily qualms. She had just felt life at its very beginning, and the innocence of it touched her heart in a way which would change it forever.

Lucas wasn't just Casey and Chris' little boy. He was her charge, and a child she was destined to love till the day she died.

000

_July_

"And this," Piper held up a little duck outfit, "was Wyatt's. Isn't the tiny little hat adorable? He was wiccaned in this outfit."

Chris chuckled, tossing over his shoulder to his brother, who was sitting on the sofa flipping through some book, "Aww, wittle Wyatt was so cuuuuute with his wittle bittle duckies."

Wyatt telekinetically threw a pillow at his sibling's head. When it smacked his sibling square in the face, he then turned to his mom,"So, what embarrassing outfits did you make Chris wear?"

Leo opened his mouth to reprimand his son for the inappropriate use of his powers, but his wife cut him off as she answered, "This was his favorite."

Piper picked up a wizard outfit with a matching hat. "Okay, so maybe it was my favorite, but you should have seen how cute he was in his little Halloween costume. My little Wizard."

Molly cooed, arms wrapped around her boyfriend, "That's so adorable. We have to put Lucas in that some time."

Casey picked up a ratted old stuffed bear. "What is this? It looks familiar to me for some reason."

"Wuvy!" Wyatt excitedly announced, jumping up and grabbing the old toy.

"Wuvy?" Molly asked.

Chris rolled his eyes. "I hate that damn bear. It used to set on the dresser, and I swear it watched me. Not to mention, I always got uneasy whenever I saw it. Even looking at it now I get a bad vibe from it."

"Well, it was used to turn Wyatt evil once..." Leo recalled.

Wyatt dropped the bear like it was on fire. "Excuse me?"

"Demon put a spell on it. Sort of. It's complicated."

"Ha ha," Casey yanked a toy bunny up by it's fluffy ears. "I remember this one clear as day." She turned to explain to Molly, "Chris used to carry this silly little guy around with him for _years_. You were what? Six before you finally let him go?"

Chris snatched the rabbit, holding it protectively. "So? I was a little kid. Little kids like stuffed animals. And he's all soft and look at the face," he turned the bunny toward the girls, "Who could resist this face?"

Piper rolled her eyes, "Chris only liked it when he found out it used to be mine. That thing is about a million years old and should probably be washed before anyone even touches it."

"We should let Lucas have it," Chris decided, looking down fondly at the old toy. "Like a Halliwell keepsake."

Piper didn't say so, but she knew the rabbit would be around for many years to come. After all, when she and Leo had gone to the future, the rabbit had been sitting on the coffee table while she and Leo played scrabble, waiting for their many grandchildren to show up from school.

She smiled softly at the thought of it. Taking Leo's hand in her own, she knew he was thinking about the same event. After all, it wouldn't be long now till their first grandchild came into the world. A brand new Halliwell to bathe in love.

000

_August_

Chris threw Bringing Home Baby: What Parents Need to Knowat the opposite wall, letting out a sharp primal yell of frustration, but feeling marginally better as the book splattered against the hard surface with a rather satisfying pound.

Wyatt glanced up from his lap top. "Dude, I didn't let you read in my room so you could throw shit at my wall. If you're going to keep it up, go back to your room. I doubt reading will incur the wrath of the maternal one. So long as you don't make a mess. Lord knows she'll blow you up for that one."

"It's the nesting period," Chris explained. "Book says she's getting ready for the baby. So, she'll be on a cleaning kick for a while."

"It's scary. She's reminding me of mom."

"Well, at least she's got instincts. Cleaning to prepare and talking to the baby and humming to him. She's going to be an awesome mom."

Wyatt frowned, "Isn't that a good thing?"

"No, because I'm going to suck as a parent and my kid is going to hate me."

The Twice Blessed laughed.

"Shut up. It's not funny. I'm trying to get ready and nothing makes sense, Wyatt. _Nothing_. Lay baby on stomach, and it may not be able to breathe. Lay it on the back and it may choke. Do you go to a kid when it cries right away or let it try to calm down on its own? And don't even freaking get me started on all the damn diapers. I went to pick some up to have on hand, and dude. Forty different kinds. FORTY."

Settling down and feeling slightly sorry for the younger boy, Wyatt asked, "Have you tried asking mom? She does have some experience in the area."

Chris opened his mouth only to close it. He let out a breath. "Okay, so maybe I _am_ being irrational, here, but it's forever, Wyatt. The baby is due next month. It's all becoming way too real, and I don't know what to do. If I can't even make a decision about the little stuff, how am I going to handle the important stuff?"

"You will, Chris. You think all parents know the answers? Mom has admitted on many occasions that she was pretty clueless when I was born. Look how great she is. You'll be the same way. I bet as soon as you see your son, it all clicks into place. Besides, you have a whole army of helpers."

Chris let out a breath. "Thanks, Wy. I think I actually feel better."

"I'm glad I could help."

"Wy?"

"Hmm?"

"If I'm doing something stupid as a dad, promise me you'll tell me."

"I promise, I will always tell you you're stupid."

000

_September_

Molly handed the container of ice cream to Casey, "So, have you even run the idea by Chris yet?"

Mouth full of ice cream the other woman shook her head, swallowing it down in one gulp. "Nope. Too scared he'll say no."

"Sweetie," Jess soothed, "it's a brilliant plan. Chris may be a lot of things, but stupid isn't really one of them. Now, pass along the ice cream already."

Casey dug out another big scoop before passing the container along the circle the three had made around the kitchen table.

"Bryan's in school for accounting," Molly started, "he could help with that end of it. He'd be thrilled to get in on something so exciting. I could ask him tomorrow. We're hanging at Prue's and catching up."

"That's all fine and dandy, but what about Chris?" Casey reiterated. "He might not be interested, and I can't do it on my own."

"Please," Molly argued, "it's as close to his dream job as it is yours. It'll be perfect for you guys. I know him about as well as you, and I would say, Chris will jump on this in a heartbeat. Now, Piper on the other hand. . ."

Jess interrupted, "– Could never deny Case anything. She's the daughter Piper never had. Plus, if Chris gets on board, all he'll have to do is look at her with his bright green eyes and say 'Moooommy pleeeeeease,' and she'll turn to jello."

Molly gestured for the ice cream container. Once she had it in her hand, a big spoonful ready, she continued, "You and Chris branching out from Charmed as caterers is a great idea. Flexible hours, freedom to do it your way, and not to mention, you could do it here in the manor. I think you really came up with the perfect plan, Casey. I mean that."

"Okay, bored with the business talk," Jessica cut in. "The Welcome Back Seniors dance is in a week. You guys want to go or what?"

"Hello, I'm a beached whale," Casey gestured at her large bump. "And my feet kill ninety percent of the time."

"I could help with the dress," Molly offered. "I'm good at hiding larger bodies. After all. . ." she trailed off.

Jessica glared at her. "Don't even say it. You're gorgeous. Whoever told you differently in the past should be shot."

The whitelighter smiled at her new found friend. "Thanks, but I'm not exactly tiny, am I?"

"Big, bold and beautiful," Jessica replied. "Like moi."

"You're curvy and sensual," Molly argued. "I'm just round."

Casey rolled her eyes, "I will throw something at you."

"I bet you a hundred dollars, I could make you the bombshell of the dance," Jessica countered. "No doubt. You go, I make you the hottest girl there."

"I'm technically dead," Molly countered. "I can't go."

"Hasn't Prue taught you how to glamour yet?" Casey questioned.

Molly's brows went up, "Come to think of it. . .that's perfect." She turned to Jessica, "I'll just change enough to look a little different. You really up for the rest?"

"It'll be my pleasure, Darling. And, Case, we'll find a dress for you, and it'll be long enough you can wear sneakers underneath it. How about it?"

Casey smiled softly, "Okay. It would be nice to have a real romantic evening with Wyatt now that everything's back to normal with us."

"I don't trust him," Jessica remarked, snagging the ice cream back from Molly. "I swear, if he hurts you again. . ."

"It's been months, and we're doing fine," Casey argued. "He won't hurt me. He loves me, and I love him. It's going to be great."

"And Chris and I actually get to enjoy each other's company in public," Molly realized. "You know, this dance might be just what the doctor ordered."

Jessica clapped happily, "Yay. About time you people came to one of these things. Kip is great, but a girl needs some sisters."

"Plus," Casey finished, "Chris and I could use one last hurrah before parenthood, right?"

"Right." "Definitely."

000

Zayel had watched as time passed, month after month. He'd waited for the perfect opportunity to strike. Now, after all his observance, he knew their personal problems, knew their weaknesses. He would cut open wounds not fully healed and rip them all open, pouring as much salt in them as he could muster.

"You know what to do, don't you dear?"

A blond girl by his side answered, "I've been waiting way too long for a chance to make them pay. When I'm through with the little bitch, she'll be begging for you to kill her."

The night of the dance was the night Lucas Halliwell was going to die.

tbc. . .


	51. Let's Dance

CHAPTER 51

**Let's Dance**

Molly gazed at herself in the mirror, wrinkling her nose in amusement over her new appearance. She'd changed her hair color from black to light copper brown, her eyes from hazel to a rich emerald green and adjusted her face shape from a heart to a soft oval. While still similar to her former appearance, the new look would fall in line with her back story perfectly.

The inspiration for her new identity had come from a story Chris remembered hearing about his mother and aunts when they'd once tried to hide from their magical destinies. Molly was going to pretend to be her own very fictional cousin– Crystal. She and Chris had met during the funeral and were seeking solace with one another. The couple figured this way people might not question the overly romantic embraces they were likely to share at the dance.

"All right," Jessica's voice interrupted Molly's thoughts, "we all look absolutely gorgeous if I do say so myself– not that it's surprising. After all we are all ridiculously good looking."

Molly smiled at the other girl's enthusiasm before noticing Casey looking a little uncomfortable. "You okay?"

"Yeah," the other girl answered, forcing a smile. "Just heartburn or something."

"You sure?"

"Mhmm." Casey rose from her spot on the bed, "Now, how about we find those guys of ours and get going?"

"Sounds like a plan," Jessica affirmed.

As the other two girls started out, Molly couldn't help but feel something was off. Something in her gut told her there was more to Casey's discomfort than she was letting on, but Molly had heard Chris say it enough times to know pushing the other girl would only get her further from the truth. Perhaps when she had the chance she would let Chris know about her concern. After all, if anyone could dig up the truth, it was Chris.

000

The dance wasn't nearly as packed as the rest of the school dances usually were, which was likely due to the fact only Seniors and their dates were allowed, and not all seniors had decided to show. Chris actually preferred it this way. Crowds tended to make him nervous, not that he'd admit it.

As the d.j. got the party started, Chris found himself smiling as he saw Wyatt gently lead Casey to the dance floor, the young woman's face practically glowing as his brother put his arms around her, and they started to dance.

He hadn't wanted them together. He'd never thought it would work, and didn't want to deal with the fall out, but seeing them together in that moment– the soft lights illuminating their starry eyed gazes, the way neither could stop from having identical dreamy looks. . .perhaps Chris had been wrong. Maybe, they were meant to be together after all.

His gaze drifted over to Kip and Jessica who were by the far end of the gym getting refreshments and talking. Those two were something. He still hadn't figured out how two such different people had wound up together.

"Chris," Molly's soft voice cut in. "I need to talk to you about something."

The young man turned his focus to his own date who had snuck up on him while he'd been lost in thought. "Hey." He grinned as he took in her appearance for the millionth time that night. "Have I told you how amazing you look?"

"Only about a thousand times."

"Are you sure you don't want to leave? Have a little party of our own where I can fully appreciate that little red dress of yours?"

Molly's face turned almost as red as her dress as she fought the embarrassment over his overt sexual attention all evening. She wasn't used to it. She did find she liked it though. Too bad she had other things on her mind right now. "Serious time, Chris. When we were getting ready tonight, I noticed Casey looked a little. . .I don't know, upset? No, that's not the right word. Off? Uncomfortable?"

Chris shot a look back over his shoulder toward his best friend. "She looks fine now."

"Still, I just think you might want to keep an extra close eye on her. I have sort of a weird feeling about it."

"Okay. Sure."

The young man took the opportunity to put his arms around his date, lusty eyed as he held her close. "Doesn't mean I can't keep an extra close eye on you too..."

"Oh no."

Chris frowned as he noticed Molly looking off toward the entrance to the gym. He followed her gaze and found his stomach drop as he saw who had just walked in. It was none other than Sara Burnhart, the tormentor of his girlfriend. More shocking still? She was being escorted by Sam.

"What is she doing here?" Molly questioned, her voice small.

"It doesn't matter. You're not the fearful, unsure girl you were before. She can't touch you now. Besides, she thinks you're dead. I doubt she'll start anything with us."

As if to merely prove him wrong, the former Queen Bee of the highschool sauntered over, her eyes distinctly focused on Chris. She flipped her red hair back, her eyes practically devouring the young man, "Hey, there, Chris. Long time no see."

"Mhmm."

"I heard about pooor, Molly. Are you all right?" She put a hand on his arm, not missing the opportunity to squeeze it gently.

Chris' green eyes shot down to her hand, which he delicately removed from his person. "I'm surviving."

"Poor thing," she cooed.

Molly inhaled deeply, her eyes boring holes into the other woman. She coughed rather obviously.

"Oh, hi," Sara threw offhandedly.

"This is Crystal," Chris quickly introduced, pulling Molly in front of him as a barricade between Sara and him. "She's Molly's cousin and my date tonight."

Sara looked a little more than put off. "Isn't that a little...awkward?"

Sam, tired of playing second string to Chris– yet again– cut in, "I'm standing right here, Sara. Stop throwing yourself at Halliwell and let's just try to enjoy the evening without you pretending to be the world's biggest bitch."

Molly's mouth fell open while her boyfriend's eyebrows reached his hairline.

Sara, to their surprise, smiled. "You think you're the boss of me?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "Well, no one else can put up with you." He addressed Chris, "Hey. How's it going, Man? Case doing ok?"

Chris, more than slightly surprised by the almost friendly demeanor, could only nod.

"Baby good?"

Again, a nod.

Sam almost smiled. "Good. I'm glad." He looked over to the dance floor where the subject of discussion was holding the Twice Blessed tightly in her arms. "She looks good. Happy."

Sara cleared her throat– loudly.

"What? Can't handle not being the center of attention for two seconds?" her date questioned, the annoyance clear.

"I don't want you talking about your ex."

"Well, I don't want you hitting on other guys. Guess you don't always get what you want."

Sam nodded farewell to Chris before beginning to storm off. He didn't get far before Sara was practically hanging on his arm, her voice starting to flow sweetly as she implored him to forgive her lapse of judgement. The nickname "pookie bear" was clearly heard.

"Oh. My. God." Chris turned to Molly, "What the _hell_?"

"He stands up to her," Molly realized. "She likes him because he stands up to her."

"But he doesn't seem real fond of her."

"Didn't want her flirting with other people..."

"Think he actually likes her?"

Molly shrugged, "Maybe she's not evil all the time. She seemed sort of. . .pathetic just now."

Chris grinned, "Told ya. Everybody has something they fear, some little insecurity about them. She took hers out on you all that time."

"I never saw it before. I was so unhappy with my life and myself that I just lapped up her words, as hateful as they were."

Chris ran a hand through her silky hair, his green eyes gently gazing into hers. "And now?"

Molly laid her head on his chest. "Never been happier."

"Want to dance?"

Molly quirked a brow at him. "You hate dancing."

"Love you, though."

"Good answer."

000

Casey tapped Wyatt lightly on the shoulder nodding her head toward the left. When her date had turned to see what she was looking at, the young woman asked, "He really loves her more than anything, huh?"

The blond couldn't help but smile as he witnessed his kid brother dancing in the corner, Molly snug in his arms, the girl's head resting contentedly against his chest. He flashed back to the first time he'd seen those two dance together. He'd known immediately his little brother was falling in love in a way he'd never fallen before. The look on Chris' face when he looked at Molly was filled with the same awe and total adoration one might expect to see on a Groom's face as he sees his bride walking toward him down the isle. That look was still present tonight, practically etched on Chris' every feature.

"She's good for him," Casey admitted aloud for the first time. "He's more gentle and patient with her around. I've noticed it anyway."

"Me too."

As one song ended and the next picked up, Casey glanced over at the bleachers. "Think I could sit this one out?"

"Tired?" her date asked, his brows automatically furrowing.

"_Claro_. When am I not these days?"

Wyatt's brows only dug further downward. "You look a little piqued. You feeling okay?'

Casey rolled her eyes, swatting his hand away as he reached for her forehead. "_No me toques_. Don't even think about it, Wyatt Halliwell. I'm not in the mood to be treated like the fragile pregnant lady. I just need to rest my feet."

"But– "

"– No. I get it bad enough from Chris without you joining in on the act. He's getting worse by the day, I swear. If I have to deal with two neurotics I will lose what's left of my sanity."

The Twice Blessed smiled, laughing lightly. "Yeah, I know how he can be. He just worries about the people he loves. You can't fault him for that." Off her look, "Okay, so maybe _you_ can..." He put an arm around her, "Come on, let's go find you a seat, huh?"

Casey rested her head on his shoulder as they walked over to the bleachers. Once there, she let herself be guided gently onto the bench. When Wyatt didn't immediately sit down, she frowned up at him. "_Que?"_

"You speak spanish more frequently when you're tired or not feeling well," Wyatt noted. "Have ever since we were kids. You've been slipping it in quite a lot all night..."

"I _am_ tired, Wyatt," she confirmed. "You try carrying around another person twenty-four seven and see how great you feel."

He didn't look entirely convinced by her argument but let it drop. Instead, he asked, "Want punch? Or something to snack on?"

With a smile spreading on her face as she picked her feet up and rested them on the bleacher below the one she was sitting on, Casey replied, "_Por fa_, _algo de beber, Amorito._"

"Sure. Be right back."

As he walked off to find his date something to drink, Wyatt couldn't help but smile as his girlfriend's eyes tiredly drifted shut and she leaned her back against the bleacher above her. She looked so young and fragile just then– not traits she let others see very often. The pregnancy was taking more of a toll on her than she was willing to admit. He'd have to come up with an excuse for them to leave early. Something like he had a headache or was bored. Then, he'd take her home, and somehow convince her to rest.

"Well, hello there."

Wyatt's hand just paused short of the plastic cup of punch, his head turning to the sound of the voice. His eyebrows went up marginally as he saw Valerie standing at his left in a baby blue dress with a low neck and high skirt. The blonde was eyeing him coyly. He forced a smile. "Hey."

"It's been a long time."

"Yup."

Valerie glanced over to the bleachers, trying to hide her disdain. "Casey doesn't look so good. Everything okay with the baby?"

Wyatt turned to look back at his girlfriend who was currently patting her stomach lightly, her mouth moving, so he could only assume she was talking to the baby. She often did when Lucas started moving around a lot. It seemed to settle him down. Though it was different this time. Valerie was right– Casey _didn't_ look well.

As his mind digested all the reasons he felt a knot of worry growing, he completely forgot about the other teen until he heard her speak again.

"Here," Valerie handed him the cup of punch he'd almost grabbed earlier. "I think you wanted this."

The Twice Blessed smiled awkwardly, "Yeah. I should take this to Case."

As he started moving forward, he was forced to stop dead in his tracks when her voice called out, "Have you thought about that night?"

Knowing he'd regret it, Wyatt asked, "What night?"

"Our night. Together," the blonde answered in her most sultry of tones. "The way we came together so perfectly. It was good that night. Amazingly good. Remember?"

Feeling uncomfortable on a whole new level, the young man automatically took a sip of the drink he was holding just so he could have a moment to think up a good answer to get rid of her.

Valerie touched his arm, her eyes undressing him. "I bet it's been such a long time since you were with a real woman. Someone who's skin isn't marred with stretch marks, who has a nice firm ass and hard abs. A body worth caressing. Best of all, no one has marked me like a dog pissing on a fire hydrant. She's your brother's slut, Wyatt. Why would you waste yourself on that pathetic skank when the only thing she could turn on at this point is a faucet?"

Wyatt opened his mouth. He remembered opening his mouth. He could even recite word for word what reprimand he had planned on the tip of his tongue– and a scathing one it would be. In fact, the rage her words elicited had almost hurt, the ire had been so hot inside of him.

However, he never got the chance to actually say the words or release the rage.

At least, not that he could remember.

Mostly because in that moment, his mind went blank and years later, Wyatt Halliwell still wouldn't remember what happened. Only that it ruined his life.

000

As the song ended, Chris saw a young man approach Molly, slightly timid as he drew nearer.

"Hi. I'm Kevin. I was wondering if I could have a dance?"

Molly, totally thrown by the request, found herself looking to her boyfriend for a response.

Chris smiled at her shock. "Hey, I guess I can't hog the hottest girl here all to myself, right?"

His girlfriend blushed, her eyes dropping automatically.

Into her ear he offered, "Have fun. I'm going to go see how Case is doing. Just don't do anything to make me _too_ insanely jealous, okay?"

"Ruin all my fun why don't you?" Molly responded, wrinkling her nose at him as he left her to deal with her new found suitor.

Chris watched as the other guy offered Molly his hand, leading her further onto the dance floor. From what he could tell, the guy seemed harmless enough, and he trusted Molly. Besides, the witchlighter figured the attention from another guy might boost her ego a bit. Nothing wrong with that so long as the guy minded himself. Otherwise Chris would kill him. Okay, maybe just maim him a little.

Taking a seat next to his best friend on the bleacher, he put a hand lightly on her shoulder to get her attention as her eyes were shut and he wasn't sure if she was still awake.

She opened one eye to look over at him, "You realize you can't dance, right?"

"Vividly."

"Just checking."

"You were watching us?"

"Mhmm. Until my teeth started rotting and falling out of my head." She opened her other eye and smiled at him. "_Son las comidilla de la vecinidad._"

"I'm the lousy whitelighter, remember? English translation, please."

"Sorry. I said you two are all people are talking about. Whispers here and there about how beautiful your date is, and how sweet you look together, and how nice it is you could move on after losing Molly and after I– the horrible friend and general whore– seduced you and ruined your life."

Chris frowned, "They don't say that."

"_No sé. Es posible_._"_

"You feeling okay?"

"_Sí_."

"You sure? You're slipping into Spanish a _lot_."

Casey shrugged. "Tired. Very tired. Can't think."

"Is everything okay? Molly noticed you weren't looking so great earlier."

The young woman leaned her head against his shoulder, her arm wrapping around his waist, "You're sweet. I love that you worry about me, but I'm fine."

"You're a lousy liar, Case. You're breathing is quick and shallow. I can feel it."

"My back just hurts."

"Want me to rub it?"

She kissed his cheek before returning her head to his shoulder. "Nope. Just stay put. I'm comfy here."

Chris put his hand on her cheek, raising her soft, doe brown eyes up. "You should go home, Babe. I am more than willing to take you. Just one quick orb and you're back in bed relaxing. Probably where you should be anyway."

The young woman noted the genuine concern in his gaze and conceded, "_No me siento bien._ My lower back really hurts, and I think the baby's sitting on something funny because my stomach feels even more bloated than usual."

Chris didn't like the sound of that. "Does it hurt?"

"No. It's just kind of like pressure on something."

"You sure?"

She nodded sleepily. "I'm going to go find Wyatt. He was supposed to get me something to drink, but that was a while ago. So, he probably found some old friends and lost track of time. I figure he can take me home and we can spend the rest of the evening in bed."

"Didn't need to know that. And should you really do _that_ at this point?"

"Dirty. Not what I meant. _Ni un poco_."

"Why don't you stay here, and I find him for you?"

Casey gestured over to the dance floor. "Your date's almost done dancing with the competition. 'Sides, walking is supposed to be good for me, remember?"

She stood up from the bleacher, swaying slightly as she regained her balance.

Chris rose as well, pulling his friend close before she went on her search. "Case, if you want me to come home later, or you need me to bring you something, just say the word, and I'm there." He stroked her short hair fondly as he reluctantly pulled away. "Are you sure you don't want me to take you home instead of Wy?"

"He's my boyfriend and your brother. I'll be fine in his more than capable hands."

"I just don't like not being around when you don't feel well. I know I'm neurotic and paranoid, but I love you both way too much to risk _not_ being neurotic and paranoid."

"We love you too. Now," she removed his hands from around her, "go have fun with your girl. She got all dolled up to impress you. Go enjoy it."

Chris grinned mischievously, "Trust me, I have been."

"Dirty, dirty, dirty."

"Guy."

"Touche."

With another quick kiss to her friend's cheek, Casey left him to go find her date. Glancing over by the punch table, she saw right away Wyatt was no where in the near area. She found Kip and Jessica dancing in front of the refreshment stand and decided to ask if they'd seen him.

After taking a moment to consider the question, Jessica shook her head in the negative.

"I think I saw him disappear out the doors there," Kip answered. "Probably went for some fresh air."

Casey thanked them before heading in the designated direction.

As she pushed open the heavy doors to the hallway, the young woman found she had to fight her way to a less densely populated area of the school first just to regain her composure after a particularly hard hitting shot from her unborn son.

Leaning against the wall, breathing heavily, Casey suddenly saw a light on in the nearby choir hall. Dischords on the piano were followed by moans of pleasure. It didn't take a genius to understand what was going on in there.

Casey felt her cheeks flushing as she heard the pair going hot and heavy in the next room. Her lips turned upward at the ridiculousness of it. She couldn't believe people couldn't contain themselves long enough to get home or to their motel room. They were like animals.

"Oh-oooh god."

The latina's mirth died instantly as she heard the tenor of the male accompanist. It was too familiar.

Despite her better judgement, Casey couldn't stop herself from moving toward the cracked-open door. Her hand gently pushed it open without her even realizing it. When her eyes set sight on Wyatt firmly pressing Valerie Stateton up against the keys of the piano, deep in the throws of sex, she didn't even realize she had gasped out loud.

Valerie glanced over, a malicious smile playing on her lips. "Oh no. We've been caught."

Wyatt's head snapped over to look at his girlfriend, his eyes losing the lust and clearing up instantly. He shook his head, blinking back the fog he had found himself in. That's when he realized where he was, what he was doing and whom he was doing it with.

The young man hurled himself away from the repulsive woman, his blue eyes desperate as he sought out Casey's brown. He breathed her name in horror.

The young woman bolted like a startled deer.

Wyatt tried to pursue her but found his legs go weak, and he fell to his knees. He grabbed his head as it pounded in pain, his vision swimming in and out of focus. He felt more than saw Valerie move in front of him. He managed to choke out, "What did you do to me?"

Valerie squatted down, eyeing him sharply. "I know what you are. What all of you are. Everything made sense when he told me. When he asked for my help, I knew it was my destiny to rid the world of you monsters."

"Mon..." Wyatt shook his head, feeling his chest tighten sharply as he tried to breathe. He hissed, "Who? Who told you?"

"I did," a deep voice answered, the shadow of his form looming over the Twice Blessed.

The young man forced his head up. "Zayel."

"It's a combination of poisons you feel coursing through your body," the demon explained. "I had Miss Stateton lace them with a powerful aphrodisiac to distract you from the pain you're going to experience. Not to mention the added side affect your little display will have on your unborn nephew."

"I. . .kill you."

The demon shook his head, smiling smugly. "Actually, you kill your nephew." He turned to Valerie. "Make sure no one hears her scream."

"No," Wyatt tried to reach out, grab her, but the black fog took him over before he could stop Valerie from disappearing out the door.

Zayel stooped down, putting a hand on the Twice Blessed's shoulder. "When I'm through with you, you'll wish the poison would kill you."

Taking his prize with him, the leader of the underworld flamed out.

000

Casey reached the parking lot before she was forced to stop, her breathing too shallow and fast to keep up with her burning lungs.

Bent in half, the young woman leaned against a parked car to rest, finally letting the sobs hit her. As her body was wracked with tears, she felt a sharp pain in her ab. It was like the worst cramp she'd ever felt in her life. The pain was nearly immobilizing.

As another sharp contraction hit her, Casey slumped to the ground, her breath hitching as she tried to breathe through the pain. She put her hand to her stomach, patting it. "No. _Estas temprano. No, Lucerito. Espera_."

Racing from her back to her front, a pain swept through her unlike anything she'd felt before. It could only be described as a punch in the back that somehow managed to rip through her innards before clenching her stomach so tight she couldn't breathe.

Casey felt something wet between her legs. As she looked down, she saw a deep stain mar her dress.

All thought left her as panic, pure and unbridled settled upon her.

She was bleeding. She was bleeding and having contractions.

Her baby was going to die.

"Ch– "

A hand clamped over her mouth before she could call for help. Soon a body was in front of her, and a familiar, loathed voice was speaking to her. "I'm not going to let another freak like you be brought into this world."

Valerie's face came into focus.

"I never understood how you could get men to fall all over you. Now I know. You had them under a spell. You're a witch. A monstrous freak that needs to be stopped. You and Chris both. I know what he did to me. It was the worst time of my life, and I didn't know why it had happened until I found out he had powers. He cursed me because I was mean to his precious whore."

Tears were pouring from Casey's lashes, and given a voice, she would have begged this woman she hated for mercy. She would have begged, pleaded, and groveled for a chance to save her son.

"I want him to find you, but not yet," the other woman continued, "you and your son need to be dead first. It's what my orders were, and protecting the world from you. . ._things_ is my destiny. I know that now. So, cry those false tears all you want. No one is going to save you."

Valerie held her hand over the other woman's nose and mouth until Casey slowly, painfully lost consciousness. Then, Zayel's new pet left the scene.

As the party raged on inside the building, no one noticed as two lives slowly started to fade away in the parking lot.

tbc. . .


	52. Keep Holding On

CHAPTER 52

**Keep Holding On**

Cindrella had nothing on Molly. She was the envy of the dance. Her dress was receiving compliment after compliment, while she herself got far more male attention than she'd ever gotten in the rest of her life combined. Best of all, Prince Charming was all hers, his green eyes never leaving her face while his warm, strong hands were rarely removed from her waist.

"Having fun?" Chris' low voice breathed into her ear.

Molly smiled up at him. "I don't think I've ever enjoyed myself so much, actually."

"Good."

A pain struck her stomach just then, warranting a wince from the young whitelighter. The discomfort didn't go away either. It was a strong throbbing in her lower abs, which could not be ignored.

"Baby, what's wrong?" her boyfriend questioned, eyes deep with worry.

"I don't know. Just all of the sudden, I really don't feel well."

"You want to go?"

"I think I might have to. God, it hurts." She held her arms over her stomach as though the gesture might actually alleviate the hurt she felt.

"Come on. I'll take you back to manor. We can watch a vid, and maybe, I can whip up some nice hot soup for your upset stomach."

Molly offered him an appreciative smile as he gently led her through the crowds toward the exit. However, as he started off to retrieve their coats from the check-in, Molly soon realized something wasn't just wrong with her– something was actually _happening_ to her. She felt her innards turn and twist and a moment later she saw the soft glow of orbs.

Not wanting anyone to see, she dashed into the ladies' room, flying into an empty stall just as she felt herself be swept away by the magical light she'd gotten so used to over the last months.

As the lights coalesced into her normal form, Molly was able to recognize her surroundings as the parking lot of the highschool. She was about to wonder aloud at how she'd managed to orb here without trying when her eye caught something unusual on the ground.

A shall was spread out on the asphalt, blowing lightly in the breeze. It took Molly a moment to figure out why it looked familiar. Casey had been wearing one earlier, and the garment on the ground looked to be the same shade and fabric as hers.

"Casey?" she called out, wondering what the other girl was doing out here.

She slowly moved through the parking lot, glancing left and right, trying to spot her boyfriend's best friend amongst the crowd of cars. It was about two rows down that her shoe slipped out from under her and she found herself falling backwards, landing hard on her backside. Not sure what had caused her fall, Molly looked down at the ground to find something slick underneath her. She raised her hand to examine what it was.

The pale porcelain skin came up crimson under the moonlight.

"Oh God." Molly immediately panicked, her head whipping down toward the blood, tracing the rivulet to a source.

Lying between two of the parked cars, deathly still, was Casey.

Molly hurried to her hands and knees rushing to the other teen's side. "Casey?"

She noticed the large and growing stain on the other girl's dress and knew immediately what had brought her here hadn't been any sort of illness on her part. Lucas needed her. Her charge had summoned her here because he was dying.

"Chris! Chris, come quick!"

Molly cradled the other girl in her arms, trying to think of something she could do to help. She put a hand on the cold cheek of the dying girl. "Please, you've got to wake up. Your baby needs you to wake up."

Orb lights formed in the middle of the parking lot, Chris appearing amongst them a moment later, looking around for his girlfriend.

"Over here!"

The young man followed the sound of the voice, racing toward it until he almost slipped and fell. However, he didn't pause to figure out what he'd stepped on to lose his balance. He didn't have to. His eyes were pinned on the source itself.

"No!" came his primal cry as he dropped to his knees by his friend's side. "Case, babe, wake up. Open your eyes."

Nothing.

He turned his head toward Molly, "Where the hell is Wyatt? Why didn't he protect her?"

"I don't know..."

"Damn it. I should have never let her go off on her own."

Chris returned his attention to the still woman on the ground, his voice going soft again as he put a hand to her too pale cheek. "Case, please don't. . . don't do this..."

He raised his hands over Casey's stomach, closing his eyes. His voice was so young sounding, so shaky as he begged, "Please, work. Just this once, work."

Molly watched in agonizing sympathy as her boyfriend held his hands out in the vain hope they would turn the golden color of healing. He shook them out repeatedly, his voice growing more frantic as he pleaded with the Powers that Be to let him have the ability just this once.

His girlfriend had forgotten he'd never mastered the ability to heal. It was somewhere inside of him, but for some reason, Chris had never been able to grasp it.

His green eyes opened, tears starting to grant them a keen shine in the glow of the moon. "Try. You've got to try."

"Me?" Molly felt panic well in her throat. "I've never even attempted to heal anyone before. I'm not sure how."

"Please," he simply said, voice soft.

Molly raised her hands over the still form, closed her eyes and prayed for a miracle.

A moment passed. Nothing happened.

Frustrated with her ineptitude, Molly opened her eyes and shook her head. "I can't do it. We need to get her to a hospital, Chris."

"Wyatt," the young man cried. "Wyatt, where the hell are you? I need you. Casey needs you."

No response.

"Paige! Prue! Andy!"

Still no twinkling of orbs.

Molly put a hand on her boyfriend's arm. "Magic might not be what fixes this, Chris. She needs a doctor. Fast."

Lifting Casey into his arms, Chris orbed the two of them out of the parking lot, not even waiting for Molly. He'd nearly forgotten about the other woman's presence in his blind fear for his friend and his child. Nothing else mattered to him in this moment except saving these two people he loved so much.

He appeared in the alley next to the San Francisco Memorial Hospital. Running into the front doors, Chris called out desperately for someone, anyone to help.

A doctor who was just coming around the corner saw the situation and rushed forward. "Son, what happened?"

"I don't know. She's pregnant, though. You've got to do something. Please."

"Clear out trauma room two," the middle aged doctor shouted out, causing nurses and interns to scatter.

Getting the young woman onto a gurney, the doctor started jogging down the hall with his team, forgetting about Chris all together as his focus became about saving his new patient. As they left the boy standing in the entrance alone, they were shouting out words to one another like 'placental abruption' and 'severe abdominal bleed'.

Chris followed the team of doctors, trying to keep up with them; however, as they reached a pair of swinging doors a younger doctor with gentle blue eyes stopped him, her hand going to his shoulder. "You need to wait here. There's really nothing more you can do for them right now. I promise Dr. Larose is an excellent surgeon. They couldn't be in better hands."

"Surgeon?" Chris breathed, his mind relaying all the horrible connotations of the word along with all the meaning it held for the girl he'd loved since childhood and the baby they had hoped to raise together.

"Are you the father?"

Chris found he could only nod as all words had completely escaped him by now.

"I couldn't say for sure what happened without examining the patient," the young woman explained, "but with that kind of blood loss she's going to need an emergency C-section in order to repair whatever internal damage she's sustained."

"C-section..." Chris swallowed hard, trying not to lose control of his emotions any more than he already had. As it was, he was struggling not to cause some sort of earthquake with his powers.

"I really have to go," the doctor responded, sympathetic. "You shouldn't be alone, though. There's a phone down the hall. Call someone."

As she disappeared through those swinging doors, Chris could only watch helplessly as they closed on his face. Keeping him away from his friend and his unborn child, both of which might be dying while he stood by powerless to stop it.

Chris closed his eyes, fighting away the complete terror in his chest. It took a moment before he was even able to breathe again. Once he'd settled down at least somewhat, he mechanically started marching toward the phone. Lifting up the receiver, he dialed the one person he wanted most right now.

"Hi...mom?"

000

Molly wasn't surprised as Chris bolted into the night air in a swirl of orb lights. She wasn't even hurt that he'd seemingly forgotten all about her. She only hoped he could get Casey and the baby to the hospital in time, and that the doctors would be able to fix whatever was wrong.

What did surprise Molly was when a second set of orb lights appeared right in front of her a moment later, and Wyatt Halliwell collapsed at her feet, a mess of bruises and blood.

"Wyatt?" she dropped to his side, rolling him onto his back, gasping as she saw his swollen and cut up face. "Wyatt, can you talk?"

"Zay," a pause to cough, "el. Took. Had to. . ." More coughing, ". . .escape."

Molly helped the other teen to a sitting position, supporting him to keep him from falling back down. "You need to be healed. I should call Prue..."

"Casey," the young man interrupted, nearly hysterical. "How– " His question was abruptly cut off with thick, deep coughs, blood splattering his lips.

"We found her lying out here...Wyatt, she was bleeding. A lot."

"Where is she now?"

" She's at the hospital. Chris is with her. Now," Molly put a hand to his chest, trying to calm him, "we need to worry about you, okay? I think you might have a broken rib." She lowered her hand to his side, wincing as he gasped in pain. "Definitely broken. It might have struck your lung. You're coughing up blood. Prue!" she called. "Prue, Wyatt needs you!"

Wyatt's eyes were large and pained as he gazed up at Molly's concerned brow. "My...fault."

"Shh. Just stay still and quiet until one of your aunts can get here."

"If Lucas dies..." the Twice Blessed winced, fighting back another wracking cough.

"Wyatt, don't make me say it again. You need to be quiet. You can talk after you've been healed."

The blond's blue eyes started drifting closed, and the young man had to struggle to lift them open again. In his torn dress shirt and slacks, he was shivering as the cool fall breeze blew past.

Molly looked up to the sky again, lifting her voice with a tinge more desperation. "Prue, Andy, somebody. Please."

It seemed like such a long while until the sky lit with pale blue and white lights. The glimmering orbs shone brightly in the dim light of the moon, but their beauty was utterly paled as Prue appeared amongst the lights with pure terror marring her features as she spotted her beloved sister's son lying wounded and bleeding on the asphalt.

"Oh God Wyatt."

"What took you so long?" Molly couldn't help but snap. "Where were you ten minutes ago when Chris was calling for you?"

"There was some sort of uprising in the underworld, and one of Paige's charges had gone missing. Phoebe and Paige were going to go down there to save her while Andy and I stayed up here just in case, but a darklighter showed up at the manor and Andy was shot and taken too."

"Oh no...Andy...is he?"

"Fine. They both are," Prue finished, her hands still glowing over her nephew's chest as the last of the cuts disappeared. When she was done she turned to Molly, "Now, what the hell is going on at this dance?"

Wyatt, now healed, sat up, his gaze still unfocused as he murmured, "It's a trap. It's all been one big set up."

Molly turned to her friend. "What? What do you mean?"

His gaze, numb and pained, barely met hers before lowering back to the earth. "Zayel. We underestimated him. He planned all of this from the beginning. He's the reason Casey was alone out here, unprotected. He's the one who took me to the underworld, and. . ." he shook his head, cutting himself short. "I'm sure he's the one to distract the others. Then, there wouldn't be anyone around to heal the baby."

"Heal the baby?" Prue looked to Molly. "What is he talking about?"

"Casey and Lucas...they're in trouble. I found her out here bleeding– badly. Chris and I both tried to heal her, but we couldn't. He took her to the hospital."

"I guess that explains the urgent call Piper got before I came here. I was wondering." Prue shook her head. "I can't believe we fell for it. I _knew_ finding Andy and Paige's witch friend was way too easy. They didn't care about us finding them. They just didn't want us up here when Casey and the baby needed us."

"How are they now?" the Twice Blessed asked, his voice on the verge of breaking.

Molly couldn't meet his gaze. "I don't know. Chris only left ten or fifteen minutes ago. I haven't heard from him yet."

Wyatt's jaw tightened, his eyes sharpening dangerously. "I'm going to kill that son of a bitch."

"Wyatt– "

His friend's pleas went unheard as he stormed away in an angry swirl of orbs.

"Where did he just go?"

Molly gazed sorrowfully at the empty space where Wyatt Halliwell had been. "To face Zayel."

"Can he vanquish him?"

"I honestly don't know."

Prue narrowed her eyes, "Then I say it's time for a little family intervention. Go get Phoebe and Paige and bring them back to our place. Quickly. The last thing Piper needs is to worry about both her sons."

000

"Any news yet?" Chris asked the nurse for what surely had to be the hundredth time already.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Halliwell. She's still in surgery, but I promise you will be notified the very moment she's out."

Chris, palms pressed down flat on the counter, found he couldn't move from the position even after the kind nurse had turned to help someone else. His eyes drifted down to his hands, noticing they were pressing so hard as to leave moisture markings on the pale white counter. Yet his arms and shoulders were shaking.

He couldn't breathe.

Everything was spinning and fading to dark. He could hear his mouth gasping air in and blowing it out, but it was never enough. Soon, his chest started to hurt, his ribs feeling entirely too large for his frame, squeezing him in, choking his heart.

Casey was going to die. She and their son were going to die.

He heard someone calling to him. His name was in his ears, but he couldn't distinguish the direction it was coming from.

His mother's face suddenly appeared in front of him, her tiny hands firm on the top of his arms as her strong brown eyes pinned his green. Their gazes remained locked for a while. He sought solace in the love and strength shining from her eyes just for him.

"Peanut," her soft voice finally broke through the white noise, "long breath in."

He complied.

"Now let it go," she finished.

He nodded, forcing the air to escape his lips.

After repeating the pattern a few times, something strange happened to the young man. His breaths became harder and shakier, his throat so thick as he fought back what he'd been holding in since arriving to the hospital.

A dry sob escaped him, only to grow more intense as his mother wrapped her baby boy in her arms. He could feel her hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair lightly. It was something she'd used to soothe him ever since he was a baby. That, along with the light scent of her shampoo as he buried his face in her hair, were all it took to calm him back down.

As his shaking subsided, Piper gently pulled away, looking up at her little boy with worried eyes. "You okay, now?"

He shook his head. "No. Not even close."

Leo, who'd been standing back a bit, came forward, his hand going to his son's shoulder. "Hey, buddy. You know everything is going to be okay, right? After all, you met Lucas already, remember? He's going to be fine. They both will be."

Chris swallowed, nodding.

"I'm sorry it took us so long," Piper was already apologizing. "We had a bit of our own emergency."

Her son looked concerned.

"Don't worry about it. It's under control."

Chris nodded again.

"Why don't we sit down?" Leo suggested. "Or you two could, and I could get us all some coffee?"

"Sounds wonderful, Leo," Piper replied, smiling at her husband's wisdom. While the former Elder loved both his children more than life, he knew when it came to calming Chris, Piper was the sure thing. If it had been Wyatt, Leo would be the one to stay while Piper made herself busy. It's just how it worked out.

Sitting down in the cold plastic chairs of the waiting area, the two were silent for a while. Chris too numb to speak just yet, and Piper biding her time, waiting for him to open up like he always did.

After five whole minutes of terrible silence, her son finally turned to look at Piper.

"She dies in the future," Chris suddenly stated. "Lucas said so. Didn't say when or how. This could be it."

"Did he remember his mother?"

"I don't know." Chris frowned suddenly, "He talked like he was there to see it."

"So clearly," Piper deducted, "it can't happen today."

Her son almost accepted this before remembering, "The future always changes. Wyatt was supposed to be a girl, after all. What if something happened to change things? Make them worse. Who knows what kind of consequences Lucas brought with him by coming here? Every move you make in the wrong time changes things."

Piper's face paled as the words echoed in her head. She wondered vaguely if a different Piper had undergone this same conversation with a different Chris. Had he come to their time at the expense of a son? What _had_ Chris left behind in his life to give them the one they now all lived?

The Charmed One shook herself free of such thoughts. She took her baby boy's hands, staring down his fears with her firm gaze. "Chris, listen to me. Everything is going to work out. Soon, your aunts will be here, and if nothing else, we'll break into the surgery, and heal them, okay? We are _not_ losing them. Not today."

Chris nodded, but his eyes reflected none of the hope she had wanted to instill in him.

Piper took his chin, raising it gently, "Hey. Look at me. You are not allowed to give up hope. Not on your kids. Not ever. I don't care how ugly it gets. How scared you are. It's not allowed. You fight for your children come hell or high water, and to hell with your own fears. It's not about you anymore, Chris. It's about Lucas. It's about giving him the immense strength I know you have in you, and lending it to him."

"Okay."

Her son pulled himself up in his chair, his eyes growing sharper as he fought to regain control. In a calmer, almost neutral voice he finally asked, "What about Casey?"

"She's the mother of your son," Piper answered simply. "You can't give up on her either. Besides, you really think she's going to quit so easily? She may be the one person more stubborn than you, my darling son."

Chris felt a small smile break through.

Just then, Dr. Larose appeared in the waiting area, a grim look on his face.

Piper gave her son's hand an encouraging squeeze as they waited anxiously for the news, whether it be good or bad.

"The surgery went as well as could be expected," the M.D. started, his tone one of controlled professionalism. "There was substantial bleeding, but we have managed to get it under control. Ms. Alvarez has regained consciousness. I anticipate she could have a visitor in the next fifteen minutes so long as long it's kept fairly short. She's quite groggy still, so it's best for her to rest right now."

Piper smiled at her son, finding comfort in the news so far.

Chris didn't tear his gaze away from the surgeon. "And the baby?"

The even stoicism cracked in the doctor as the question was ventured. His voice lowered with his eyes as he reluctantly answered, "Not faring as well, unfortunately. The reason for the placental abruption was a case of severe anemia in the baby. It complicated the pregnancy while also damaging the child's heart, which is our greatest concern at the moment."

"Greatest," Chris numbly repeated. "So there are other concerns."

Dr. Larose pursed his lips, "He's small for his age, and his lungs are also slightly under developed, which makes surgery more risky."

"Surgery?" Piper questioned, unable to stop herself.

The doctor nodded. "We gave the baby some medicine in the hopes of strengthening the lungs and possibly helping the heart to start the healing process. However, if the heart does not get better in the next twenty-four hours. . ." He shook his head. "I'm very sorry."

"So, he could die without surgery," Chris numbly surmised, "but he could also die with it. So basically what you're telling me is my son's going to die?"

"I really hope not, Mr. Halliwell. From the bottom of my heart, I hope the drugs we administered do enough to stabilize him."

"Thank you for the update," Piper abruptly ended the conversation, shooting a pleading look to the other adult.

Dr. Larose gave a subtle nod of understanding before adding the final words, "When you're ready, Mr. Halliwell, Ms. Alvarez has been asking for you."

As the healer left, probably to attend to his other duties, Chris was left reeling. He felt like his vision was swimming along with his head. Nothing was focused. Everything was a blur of spinning light and shapes. Even his mother sitting next to him ceased to be real.

"She needs you," he finally heard. "Go be with the mother of your little boy, Chris."

The young man turned to look at his mom, nodding without realizing it.

Rising from his chair, Chris headed down the hall, turned left and found the nurses' station. The kind nurse from earlier smiled sweetly at him, and answered his unasked question in a soft, sympathetic tone, "She's in room 314. You can go in now."

Again, Chris' head bobbed in affirmation without his conscious being aware of it. Instead, he just kept moving forward. One foot in front of the other while his mind tried to stay as quiet as possible. If it remained silent, he wouldn't panic. He wouldn't lose it again, and be useless to his friend. So really numb was good.

The door to the room was cracked open. Chris lightly pushed it the rest of the way. His breath caught at the sight inside.

A nurse was inserting what appeared to be a second IV of something to his friend's arm while little tubes were going up her nose. Some sort of readout was fed through a little clamp on one of her fingers, and the monitor was beeping in a slow rhythm which didn't match the beat of the second monitor, which Chris recognized as his friend's heart rate.

Then there was the pale hue of his friend's face, the dark bags under her eyes, the way her lips, normally soft and plump were dried and slightly blue. Her eyes were only opened half way, but it was enough for Chris to see the foggy, pained gaze behind the rich brown eyes.

He looked at the nurse, waiting for some sort of green light.

It was Casey herself who gave it to him, "Chris..."

As soon as his name left her lips, he was at her side. One hand taking hers while the other smoothed the hair from her face. "Hey."

"H-hey," she returned, trying to smile but wincing. Off her friend's overly frightened look, "Just my stomach. All the stitches."

"I'm so sorry," the young man offered, his hand tender on her cheek. "I should have gone with you. This is all my fault."

"No."

"Yes," Chris argued. "It's my job to protect you. You and the baby. I failed. I failed you, Case." He choked on emotion, "I'm so sorry."

His friend's eyes drifted closed before she fought them open again. She swallowed thickly, trying to shake her head, but not quite able to. "Don't. Not you, Chris. Love me and. . ." she struggled to concentrate, "Lucas. Like we love. . .love you."

"I should let you rest," Chris mumbled. "The doctor said to keep it short."

Casey smiled weakly, "Chris. . ."

"Yeah?"

"Have you seen him?"

Chris forced his gaze to remain steady on hers. "He's perfect. Just as good looking as his mom."

She laid her head back on the pillow, letting her eyes finally drift shut. A contented glow lit her face as she started to drift to sleep. In a breathy, tired voice she answered, "He's all that matters. What Wyatt did...not important."

Chris frowned, "Casey? What do you mean what Wyatt did? What happened to him tonight? Why wasn't he with you?"

Her eyes were slits as she looked up at him again. "What he did? He did Valerie."

Chris felt every fiber of his being light on fire with shock and rage. It all made sense now. Why Wyatt wasn't there. Why Casey had been alone in the parking lot. What had probably helped cause the premature labor. Wyatt had cheated on her, and she'd caught him just like she'd caught Sam. Upset, she'd run out, only to find herself in pain and alone.

When next he saw his older brother, Chris had every intention of doing him great physical harm for this.

"But I. . .have. . .Lucas," Casey started to drift off again, the pain meds sending her to her dreams. She mumbled groggily, "_Mi lucerito_."

The young witchlighter couldn't help but smile faintly at her pure joy over thinking on their baby boy. He wished he could feel it for just a moment, but he knew the truth: their little boy might not make it through the night.

And it turned out his own brother was the one to blame.

tbc. . .


	53. Gettin' Lucky

Sorry, been out of town for quite a while. No computer. Wrote this up really fast, so sorry for any errors.

CHAPTER 53

**Gettin' Lucky**

Wyatt Halliwell had never felt before the way he felt in this instant. His mind was clear except one burning thought running through it over and over like a flashing neon sign: Kill Zayel. It was the only thing he could think of as his body burned with the hottest rage he'd ever known.

The underworld would mark this day as the day The Twice Blessed came into his destiny. It was the first time each and every demon he met suffered a quick death with a dismissing wave of Wyatt Halliwell's hand. The caverns they dwelled in shook as he went past, his emotions wreaking havoc on the rocky earth causing cave ins and general destruction. Those who saw him and lived remembered seeing his power rather than any physical form. A raw surge of unbridled strength walking amongst them, completely annihilating everything in his way.

From this day on, the demons understood why they'd feared the coming of age of the Twice Blessed Child.

A familiar face watched the devastation with sadness, not for the demons but for the young man bringing it about. After watching and waiting for the right moment, he knew he had to act. Sitting idly by wasn't an option. He couldn't let what happened to him happen to Good's most powerful defender.

"Wyatt Halliwell," the observer called out.

The man turned his iron shaded gaze to the sound of the voice, raising a hand, ready to vanquish anything that moved. "Who are you? What do you want?"

From the shadows, slowly and unsurely appeared Marshall. The teenaged ghost looked sickly and thin. His spirit no longer seemed capable of fully rejuvenating his host body anymore. The corpse looked just as one might expect: like death. However, his eyes shone with the only spark of life left to him. "Do you know me?"

"Should I?"

"I was a Vetala once. Now, a lost spirit, trapped here."

"Marshall. You worked with us against Zayel before. Tell me, do you know where he's hiding?"

Marshall braced himself as he replied, "Yes. I won't tell you, though."

Wyatt's hand flew through the air, cutting through it while sending the other teen backwards, the body hitting the wall hard. The impact was so hard hitting the decomposing form lost his left arm as dust particles flew from the shoulder joint.

"What's wrong with you?" Wyatt asked, horrified at what he'd caused yet too shocked for any apology.

"I'm dying. Just like you will." Marshall rose from the ground after an initial struggle to move. "My hatred turned me into a monster. Turned me into the Vetala responsible for killing your friend. It kept me here after my time was done, so I could hunt Zayel and avenge my sister's murder. It's been almost a year, and I've come no closer to killing Zayel, and even if I could, it wouldn't be worth it. I missed my ride to what comes next. I missed it and now...I'm too weak to move on."

"If you tell me where he is, we'll both get exactly what we want."

Marshall shook his head, the sorrow palpable. "No, Wyatt. Whatever you do, you'll never get what you really want through killing him. Killing him wouldn't give me my sister back. It wouldn't give you back what you lost either. And killing him like this? Letting all the anger and hurt and hate control you. . .it'll make you a monster too."

The words hit Wyatt like a slap in the face. He would become a monster...just like before. Just like in the world one Chris had fought so hard to save.

It was his most deep seeded fear.

"If you go on like this, it'll destroy your humanity," Marshall continued. "Worse yet, it'll probably take away the reason you're doing all this. Whatever he did to you or your family. . .would they understand the kind of person you're becoming? Becoming a monster to get revenge for my family actually took them permanently away from me. I can't ever see them now. I doubt you want to be forever parted from your reason. Right?"

Wyatt thought on Casey. He had never loved any woman the way he loved her. For years he'd wanted nothing more than a chance to show her how perfect they could be together. He wanted to hold her against him and feel her heart beat against his chest and experience her warm, sweet scented breath against his skin. In the deepest corner of his heart, he'd always thought he'd marry her someday. After all, how perfect would it be to marry the first and only girl he'd fallen for?

She probably hated him now. The very sight of him would more than likely make her sick to her stomach.

"You're glowing."

Wyatt glanced down, seeing the familiar golden lights circling around him. He reached out for Marshall, pulling the walking corpse with him into the swirl of magic. The two of them disappeared from the cavern in the twinkling orbs.

The first face Wyatt saw upon materializing in the attic of the manor was his Aunt Paige's. Her mouth was screwed up in her classic annoyed manner.

"You've got some explainin' to do, Mister," his youngest aunt remarked, half jesting and half seriously wanting to strangle him.

"What were you thinking, Wyatt?" Phoebe asked, her doe brown eyes filled with some sort of mixture of sympathy and concern. "Do you really want your mother to have to worry about both her children right now? Not to mention what could have happened to you down there."

Prue, her icy gaze narrowed on her nephew, shook her head, "Hardly the point. He's powerful enough to do anything. Too bad he's just a kid. A kid who should trust the adults of the family to take care of things instead of going off half-cocked to vanquish a dangerous demon who already managed to do some serious damage to him today."

"I know, I know," Wyatt conceded. "I already got an ear full, trust me."

Paige tilted her head to the side, frowning in confusion as she noticed for the first time the young stranger at her nephew's side. "Uh, not to be rude or anything, but...who the heck is that?"

Molly, who had been quietly sitting on the sofa so far, instantly recognized the spirit behind the eyes of the walking dead. "Marshall."

"Hi," the ghost quietly greeted.

Wyatt turned to his three aunts. "Listen, he has been an ally for a while now, helping us with the Triad and Zayel, but he needs our help. He's stuck here. You three are powerful magical beings, isn't there some way we can help him move on? He's too weak to do it himself, and I figure we owe him that much."

"Sweetie, that's a nice thought, but we need to get to the hospital. All of us do. Your brother needs our support," Phoebe said. "Like now."

Panicked, Wyatt turned to Molly, "What happened? Is she okay? Is the baby...?"

Molly couldn't meet his gaze, "She's stable. The baby. . ." Molly had to wipe the tears from her eyes. "Chris said the doctors thought it was time to say goodbyes."

"Which," Phoebe continued, "is why we can't help you right now. We need to get there before it's too late."

Wyatt shook his head, fighting back his emotions. "Not acceptable. You three stay here, and help Marshall. Molly and I will go to the hospital. Mom can freeze the scene, and I'll sneak in and heal Lucas. Just make sure he gets to the other side before he just fades away, okay? I owe him."

Before any of the women could utter a word of protest, Wyatt had grabbed Molly's arm and orbed them both away from the attic.

000

Chris, decked out in full scrubs, mask and gloves, stared down at his tiny newborn son from his perch by the child's side. The little boy was so small, only three pounds and five ounces. The little body was tinged blue from the poor circulation, and the tubes attached to the minuscule arm and which went traversing down the poor babe's nose made the baby look more like a science experiment than a human child.

"I don't know what to say," Chris started, his eyes never leaving the face of his child, "It wasn't supposed to go down this way."

Chris turned to look out the glass window of the neo-natal intensive care unit and found his mother watching from the hallway, a sad smile on her face as she nodded encouragingly at her son while his father had to fight back a smothering sorrow of his own, barely holding it together as his arm wrapped around his wife.

The son turned to his own son, renewed in his conviction to do this right. He cleared his throat. "You're really sick, they say. Doctor says the medicine isn't taking. They want to perform surgery, but without you having improved it's more than likely going to kill you..."

Chris lowered his head, taking in a deep breath to calm himself. He raised his head. "I told them no. I think you'd want more time to fight. I think you deserve that."

The baby struggled to open his eyes, but could only keep them open half a second or so.

The young father took it as a sign. "See. I knew you would. You're a Halliwell. We never go down without a fight. You'll learn that when you get older."

Chris tentatively reached through the holes in the side of the glorified box containing his son, lightly touching the infant's cheek with a finger. "I can't promise to protect you or to help you through this. I'm not all powerful. I'm pretty much a regular guy with a few extra tricks up my sleeve. None of which have helped so far. I know fathers are supposed to know everything and be able to do these great feats for their kids, but I'm pretty sure I'm not one of those fathers. I'm pretty much a kid myself, which is just your luck, right?"

The witchlighter took a breath. "I wish I was better at this stuff. I wish I knew what to say or do right now. I mean, I'm supposed to be in here for closure or some sort of bullshit like that, but I can't. I can't say goodbye. I've never been good at them, and I doubt I ever will be because saying goodbye is like giving up, and I have never quit anything before. Not once."

Chris removed his hands from the child, pulling them back into his lap. "Casey should be here. Not me. She thinks she's lousy with kids, but I would bet anything she'd know the right thing to say. That's your mom, you know. She's one of the most amazing people I've ever known. You'd love her. She already loves you so much. She thinks you're fine. I told her you were because she'd fall apart if she knew the truth. Not that she's weak or anything. No way. Not her. On a good day, she could probably take me down– not that I'd ever tell her that. It's just. . .she's too much like me. If she knew what was going on, she'd want to be here and she'd want to do some sort of crazy thing to fix it all, and she'd probably do something to really hurt herself."

Chris watched in silence for a minute, wondering how the little boy in front of him that seemed so perfect could be so ill.

"I should go check on her," he quietly finished. "You probably don't want to listen to me anymore anyway, right? That's the thing with sons– you're supposed to ignore your dads. Just. . .if this is the only advice I can ever give you. . .don't quit. A whole bunch of people are waiting to meet you and love you."

Chris rose from the chair and marched from the room without looking back once. As his mother and father both reached out to him, he brushed them off, muttering about needing to change.

He didn't bother actually changing. He didn't care enough to put the energy into it. He want straight to Casey's room, wanting nothing more than to be by her side and help her get well. He thought perhaps that was something he could actually help with.

As he turned to corner toward her room, he spotted Molly outside his friend's door. His feet quickly carried him to her, wrapping her up in his arms and burying his face in her neck. "Molly."

His girlfriend held him tightly, knowing how rattled he must be to show this kind of emotion in public. "It's okay, Chris. We have a plan."

The young man pulled back, "We?"

Wyatt appeared in the doorway to the hospital room. "We."

Chris lunged forward at his sibling. "You son of a bitch."

The two toppled backwards onto the floor, the younger brother pummeling the older with hit after hit while Molly cried out in shock and horror. It took a full three minutes for her to pull her lover off his brother, dragging him away.

"What is the matter with you?" she demanded.

Chris glared past her at his older brother. "Ask him. Ask him what he was doing while my best friend was bleeding to death in the parking lot. Ask him why it is Casey suddenly found herself going into premature labor all alone."

Molly turned a questioning gaze to Wyatt.

"He has every right to hate me," the blond replied softly. "They both do. But," he turned his focus to Chris, "it doesn't change the fact I can help. Let me. You may not have the power to heal, but I do. Let Mom freeze the hospital long enough I can save Lucas."

"Save Lucas?" a weak and tired voice questioned from behind the trio.

Chris' mouth parted in horror as his best friend's gaze met his. Her eyes were glimmering with tears as she realized he'd lied to her. She choked on her breath, trying to stay calm enough to find out the truth. "What's wrong with our son?"

"We'll fix it," Wyatt promised.

Casey didn't look at him. "I wasn't talking to you."

She pinned Chris down with her gaze. "Answer me."

Chris couldn't find words.

"Damn it, tell me what is wrong with my baby," she cried, suddenly wincing in pain. She hissed, reaching for her abdomen.

"You're going to tear your stitches," Molly quietly warned.

"_No me importa_."

"He's sick," Molly finally answered in her boyfriend's stead. "But we have plan. You just need to trust that we're going to take care of it, and in the mean time, take care of yourself. He's going to need his mother."

Chris moved to his friend's side. "Have I ever let you down before?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

The young man swept her hair from her face, gently kissing her forehead. Into her ear he whispered, "I'm going to do everything possible to save our son, Case. I swear."

"You better."

000

With the flick of her wrists, Piper had effectively trapped the hospital in a moment. Nurses were statues holding phones and updating charts. Doctors stood with coffee half raised to their mouths and mid-conversation. Patients ceased feeling their pain, stopped dying for a moment. Only silence and the few untouchable beings were allowed to continue on.

"You don't have long," Piper warned the children. "It's a hospital. People are always coming and going and Leo can't stop everyone. You only have a few minutes, so go use them before I have to unfreeze them all."

Wyatt, Chris and Molly hurried into the NICU, making a straight dash for Lucas. The Twice Blessed reached the infant first. With hands held out, he closed his eyes and attempted to do what he'd done a thousand times before. Only after a moment, he could tell nothing was happening.

"What's wrong?" Chris sharply questioned. "What are you waiting for?"

"I'm not," the sibling answered. "It's not working."

"What the hell do you mean it's not working. It always works. You're you. You're Mr. Powers. Save my son, Wyatt. You put him here, get him out."

The Twice Blessed struggled not to flinch at the biting words. "You don't think I'm trying?"

"Are you? Or are you so freaking jealous you'd rather see your own nephew die than me have a child with Casey?"

Molly watched the little boy with sorrow unknown to her before now. He was so tiny and helpless lying there. She wondered at how such a perfect little person could be put through so much during their first day of life. It wasn't fair.

"I would never intentionally hurt you or her. You're my brother, Chris. I would die for you and your son."

"Until the next hot piece of ass came along at least."

Molly had stopped hearing the others. All she could focus on was her charge. She could already see the similarities between the boy and his father. It helped knowing what the youth was eventually going to look like already. Eventually, the child would even grow to have his father's stunning green eyes. Perhaps it was the tie to Chris that made Molly fall immediately in love with the little boy back when he was still safe in his mother, but now, seeing him so frail. . .all she wanted to do was protect him.

Wyatt fought not to let Chris see how much he was hurting, and only succeeded in hiding his feelings when he saw a glow from the corner of his eye. Turning toward it, he saw Molly's hands lightly golden. "It has to be you."

"What?" she asked.

"Put your hands over him, quick," Wyatt barked.

Molly glanced down, her mouth parting as she realized her hands felt unusually warm, and the reason was they were glowing with healing powers. She swallowed nervously before doing as Wyatt ordered. It took only a few moments to tell a difference in the youth. His color improved, his little legs started kicking furiously, and then. . .his little eyes opened to look up at her.

They were already a brilliant shade of green.

"Thank god," she heard Wyatt breathe beside her.

"I did it," Molly said, smiling down at her charge. "I actually did it."

"He's going to be okay," Chris allowed himself to voice aloud. "My son's going to be okay..."

The young man turned to his girlfriend, hugging and kissing her with all the joy and relief he'd ever felt in his life. He put his hands to her face, staring into her hazel eyes with more than the love he'd always bestowed upon her: he was looking at her with pure gratitude. "Lucas is so very lucky to have a guardian angel like you watching over him," Chris murmured.

Molly suddenly gave a little laugh, "I guess that's where it came from."

"What?"

"His nickname. Lucky."

Chris turned to look on his little boy. "It fits. After everything he's already been through, look at him. Strong and healthy. Lucky to be alive."

"I'm just glad everything worked out," Wyatt quietly offered.

Which was when Lucky decided to orb away.

tbc. . .


	54. Mamma Mia

CHAPTER 54

****

Mama Mia

Wyatt stared in abject horror as his nephew disappeared in a swirl of orb lights in almost the exact same instance the nurses all became reanimated. One particular nurse with light red hair was heading in their direction, her nose half in the chart she was carrying.

"Oh my god," Chris said, staring at the empty space where his son had been a moment earlier. "I haven't even been a dad a whole day, and I've already managed to lose my kid."

"Shh," Molly warned, nodding in the direction of the nurse. "No time for panic right now. Just do something. Fast."

Wyatt, thinking quick, waved a hand over the spot his nephew had been a moment earlier, watching as an illusion of the ailing babe appeared in Lucky's place. "Okay, can't keep this up all day, so let's find the kid asap."

"Let's get out of here first off," Chris muttered, noticing the red head was now staring at him and the others with a distinctly disapproving look. He smiled sheepishly at her before hurrying the others out of the area.

Once outside, Molly pulled a face before turning to the two young men. "Weird. I keep thinking about Casey for some reason. Almost like I have this strong need to go to her right now."

Wyatt answered her unasked question, "Yeah, that'd be your charge your sensing. Now that he's born, I guess your connection is alive and kicking. Since he's your only charge, my guess is the whitelighter connection is pretty strong."

"He went to his mom?" Chris asked, a small smile of both relief and joy starting to spread.

"One way to find out. . ." Molly answered.

000

Casey winced as she shifted, her abdomen burning as tiny knife-like stabs went through it. She knew she was supposed to stay as still as possible at least for a day or two, but she couldn't. Not when her little boy could be dying. Not when she felt so helpless the temptation to rip her hair out was all but tangible.

The monitors kept beeping the steady rhythm of her heart. For some reason, the steady beat only served to thoroughly piss her off.

Her heart was fine. It was strong and beating and well while her son's was damaged and broken and dying. So the beeping? A painful reminder to her that before her son had even been born she'd failed him. If one of them had to die, to suffer, Casey wished it had been her.

Worse yet? She couldn't even see him. The nurses wouldn't take her to him. Lucky couldn't come to her. She was a mother without a child. A mother who could only lay on her back, glaring at inanimate objects while her baby slowly suffered all alone.

Not alone. Chris was there. His daddy was at least with him.

But every child needs its mother. . .right?

Orb lights appeared. The tiniest set of twinkling orbs the teenager had ever seen before, and they were heading straight for her arms.

Barely having the wits to catch the magical child in her arms, Casey was more than a little astounded as a tiny little baby stared up at her with deep green eyes. He blinked calmly, his little hands curled around each other on his bare chest.

Worried for his health and not sure what else to do, Casey moved her soft blanket to wrap the child as she held him in her arms.

**Lucky's eyes closed sleepily, his little head resting against her chest as he drifted peacefully to sleep.**

Tears were slowly forming in Casey's eyes as she stared down at the infant. Her son. Chris had been right: Lucas Halliwell was the most beautiful child she'd ever lain eyes on. The little boy was by far the best thing she'd ever done and the miracle and awe of it struck her almost painfully as she held him close to her strongly beating heart.

Chris came skidding to a stop outside her door, his face full of a kind of relief as he spotted the baby. Then, his mouth curled up into one of his famous grins. "Guess this means you're already the favorite parent."

"He missed the sound of my heartbeat," Casey softly realized.

Chris moved into the room, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. His hand went to lightly caress the tiny head of his newborn son. His other hand went to the cheek of the boy's mother. "Look what we did."

"Yeah."

"Are you scared?"

"Terrified."

"But it's also kind of...I don't know..."

"Perfect. He's so perfect, Chris."

The young man met his former lover's eyes and in the moment they remained locked, an understanding and binding promise crossed between them. This child– their child– would always come first and no matter what, they would protect him.

"Oh good, he_ is_ here," Molly's voice interrupted the moment. She smiled at the little boy, "and look how good he looks. He's going to be fine. Better than fine really because I mean, what little boy could possibly have more? He's got a huge family that loves him. Great parents. And not to mention a wonderful uncle and a pretty quick study for a whitelighter. That's a whole lot of love."

"Which is another reason he's lucky," Chris remarked, winking at Casey.

"Lucky. So that's where...I like it."

"Thought you would."

Wyatt loomed in the doorway, hands deep in his pockets as he stared at the floor.

Casey's eyes drifted over to him. "Chris, as much as I don't want him to ever leave my arms, you should probably take him back before anyone gets suspicious. Molly should go too."

Chris opened his mouth to protest, not wanting to leave her, but Molly grabbed his arm, "Come on." She gave him an emphatic look until he understood what was really going on.

Chris took his son, practically glowing with pride. He leaned over to kiss Casey's forehead before following his girlfriend out of the room, reluctantly leaving his injured friend to deal with his idiot brother.

"I should go too," Wyatt mumbled.

"No." Casey stared him down. "You stay. You stay and you hear what I have to say."

The Twice Blessed nodded, pursing his lips as he prepared for the worst.

"You would never hurt me like that on purpose. You don't have it in you to be such a coward. If you wanted to sleep with someone else, you'd tell me. Cheating isn't your style. So tell me, Wyatt. What really happened."

Shocked, the young man raised his head to meet her gaze. The look she had wasn't one of hate, but not of understanding or love either. "Valerie was working with Zayel."

"I know."

"She slipped me something. To be honest, after I drank it, I don't really remember much. Just you coming in and. . .I'm sorry. Casey, if I could take it away, make up for it somehow. . ."

"– You can't." She let out a breath, grimacing against her pain. "I'm not blaming you for what happened. It wasn't your fault. I figured that out."

"So. . .?"

Casey's eyes went soft, tears clearly forming that she would never let fall. "It's not fair. I know it's not fair because it isn't your fault. Not really. Still, I see you two. Every time I close my eyes, I see you with her. Every graphic moment of it. It plays on loop. Do you know what that's like?"

"You and Chris. It's like that."

"No. You imagined what I did with Chris. You never witnessed it, Wyatt."

"You chose him, though. I didn't have free will at the time."

The young woman nodded. "I know. I said this wasn't fair, remember? It's just. . .I can't help myself from seeing it. And then what happened after. . .I've never been so scared in all my life. I thought I was going to lose my baby. I thought I was going to die alone in that parking lot all because you had betrayed me."

"– But I didn't betray you. Not on purpose."

"Not on purpose. No. But, it still happened. I can't forget it. I can't let it go. That's why it's not fair. It's not your fault, but at the same time. . .things will never be the same with us, Wyatt. I thought you should know that now rather than later. We are not a couple. I want us to be friends again someday, but right now, looking at you. . .my brain knows none of this is your fault, but my heart? My heart blames you. So, don't chase me. Don't hope for me. Most of all? Don't wait for me, Wyatt, because I'm not sure I can ever convince my heart to trust you again."

The young man shook his head, feeling indignant for the first time about the situation he'd been placed in. "But, you know I would never do something like that in my sane mind. You _know_ that. I love you."

"Knowing and feeling are two different things, Wyatt."

"So that's it? No second chances? No even considering the future?"

"I don't have the energy. My energy goes to Lucky now. Everything in way of my strength and my courage goes for him. I don't have the time or the will to fight for us anymore. I'm a mother as of today. He comes first. He gets my focus."

"You can do both."

Casey met his blue eyes with sadness. "I'm not sure I can. I'm not sure I can even be a good mother. Trying to succeed at that is more important to me than succeeding as your girlfriend, though. Do you understand that? My feelings for you almost got him killed. Never again."

"Casey. . ."

"I'll see you back at the manor, Wyatt."

He opened his mouth to argue, to fight for them, but the set nature of her gaze made him back down. She wasn't ready. She was scared and hurt. She wasn't ready. "Okay. But we? We're not over. You'll see that someday."

As Wyatt turned and walked away, Casey looked up at the pale white ceiling, fighting back the urge to cry for the millionth time today. "Not for any man. It's not worth it. Never again."

000

"Oh just look at him," Prue was cooing through the viewing glass of the NICU. The whitelighter couldn't stop smiling at the tiny baby. The next generation of Halliwell had been brought into the world. "He's got Chris' eyes."

"Casey's mouth," Andy pointed out.

Paige grinned, "That's definitely the Halliwell jawline he's got going. I mean, the kid is going to be a total babe magnet when he gets older." She nudged her younger nephew, "Just like his daddy, huh?"

Chris fought not to blush and failed. "Can we not talk about girls yet? I'm busy enough freaking out about getting him through childhood. I don't need to panic about adolescence yet."

Phoebe, who had been busy making faces at the baby, finally turned her attention to her sister's son. "Oh, come on, Chris, it's not like you're going to have to do this all on your own. That's what family is for. And I, for one, can't wait to babysit this tiny little prince." She turned back to the glass. "No, I can't. No, I can't. You're just too cute. Yes, you are. Did you know that?"

"She's gone," Piper announced with a grin. "Happens every time."

Molly giggled. "At least she's consistent."

"That's our Pheebs," Prue teased, "consistent."

Phoebe stuck her tongue out at her big sister.

"Today is a good day," Leo announced, hand on his son's shoulder. "So, how does it feel?"

Chris turned his gaze to his son. "Indescribable."

"That never changes," Leo confessed, a look passing between he and his son.

"Chris?" Wyatt called, rounding the corner. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

The younger brother's eyes went dark and cloudy, his jaw setting.

Molly noticed and moved up behind him, whispering in his ear, "He's still your brother, and he still loves you. Go."

Chris, shooting a half-annoyed half-appreciative look at the girl, finally forced his feet to move toward his sibling. The two slipped around the corner into one of the emptier corridors of the hospital.

Chris planted his feet, his arms going defensively over his chest. "I'm here; I'm listening. Make it fast."

"I was drugged."

The arms slipped from the younger teen's chest, his lips parting slightly from the shock. "Oh my god."

"Yeah," Wyatt ran a hand through his hair. "Valerie was working for Zayel. She drugged me and seduced me so that Case would be alone and unprotected."

The color drained from the younger brother's face. "It was a set up."

"Yeah."

"I hit you."

Wyatt touched his jaw gingerly. "I remember."

"Sorry."

"Are you?"

Chris looked vaguely hurt. "Yeah. Of course I am. I hit my brother, and all you were guilty of was being drugged, raped and then beat up not just by me but by the demon too. Molly told me that part."

"Raped?"

The younger boy shrugged uncomfortably. "Sort of. If you were drugged then. . .what would you call it?"

"Can we not call it that? It's just. . .I'm not looking for sympathy here, Chris. I just want my brother to not hate me."

"I'm sorry I thought the worst of you."

"You weren't thinking anything, Chris. You were freaked out about Lucky and Casey. I knew that. It's why I didn't say anything until now. You had enough on your plate. It's just...I lost Casey, and I can't lose you too."

"Did you tell her?"

"She figured it out on her own."

Chris frowned, "Then it's all the drugs they've got her on. She's not thinking right. She'll understand. She'll forgive you."

"She didn't blame me. She just can't be with me anymore."

"That doesn't make any sense."

"To her it does."

Chris paused, not sure what to say. After a moment, he offered, "You okay? I mean, as okay as you can be?"

"You're the one with a baby in the hospital. Don't worry about me. I just wanted you to know the truth. That's all."

"You're my brother, Wy. The only one I've got. I'm going to worry. So...?"

Wyatt shrugged. "I feel like shit. I've never been one to drink my problems away, but right now? I could use a shot of something. Something strong. Because everything seems like it's just spinning out of control and I have no control and no ability to set it right."

"Your greatest fear," Chris murmured. "Being powerless."

"Yours too," Wyatt countered.

"She'll change her mind in time," Chris repeated. "She loves you."

"You know what? I'm tired of thinking about it. Nothing's going to change right now, so let's drop it. We have more important things to discuss anyway. Like my new nephew. He's really okay, right?"

Chris nodded, unable to fight the spreading smile. "Yeah. He's amazing. The nurse had to check the test results three times before she could believe them. Said it was a miracle, but Lucky is completely healthy, and as soon as he's up a couple more pounds, we can take him home."

"You still freaking out about fatherhood?"

"Yes and no." Chris shoved his hands in his pockets shrugging. "It's different than I thought. I mean, if I think about the big picture, his whole future, mine, Molly's and Casey's too. . .it's too overwhelming. I can't even breathe from the panic that starts choking me at all the things that could go wrong. But, if I concentrate on just right now. . .on the little boy in that room over there. . .I feel calmer than I've ever been before. Like being his dad is the one thing I was meant to do. The one thing I am going to be really good at."

Chris broke out into a full smile, a rare sight on the normally controlled face of the teenager. "I got to feed him. He actually got to be in my arms, and he was looking up at me with these huge, curious eyes of his. His gaze when he could manage to focus was so trusting and peaceful, Wy. The world hasn't touched him yet. Even after the pain he must have been through before, he's still an innocent. I get to protect him, and that's incredible. Scary as hell but incredible. I'm not saying this right, am I?"

"You love him."

"There aren't words for it. Love doesn't even cover it. It sounds too common. It's not enough."

Wyatt smiled softly, "I've never seen you like this before. You're almost giddy."

"I'm being lame, I know. Everybody feels this way about their kids, so I should stop making such a big deal out of it, right? I promise I'll stop being the obnoxious parent once I'm sleep deprived."

"Not everyone feels the way you do, Chris. Lucky is just fortunate to have you and Case as his parents. After all, some teens throw their babies in garbage cans. Parents hit their kids. Call them cruel names. Some people can't feel what you feel right now. They aren't capable of it. So, no, Chris, I don't think you're being dumb for being excited and proud and awe struck. To be honest, Kiddo, I'm proud of you."

Chris ducked his head almost sheepishly. "You are?"

"Yeah. I am." Wyatt suddenly let out a long breath, "Which is why I'm not looking forward to ruining the moment by reminding you that the deal with Zayel is off. Now that Lucky is born, the spell is broken. He's a target, and I have a feeling-- based on what Zayel's moves lately-- he's going to strike while the iron's hot. We need to be prepared."

Chris nodded, the joy immediately wiped clear from his face. "I know. I just hope Zayel realizes if he touches one hair on my kid's head, I will scour the underworld in order to make him suffer for it."

"I've been thinking, actually," Wyatt said, "about a different way of tracking and trapping him. Maybe, just maybe, we could use an assist."

Chris, catching on, grinned, "I think I know just the pair of guys for the job too..."

tbc. . .


	55. SOS

CHAPTER 55

**SOS**

Today was the big day. The day Lucky was finally coming home. No one was more excited than Chris. He'd spent nearly every free moment in the NICU next to the little boy, reading and talking to him, holding and feeding him. He'd been waiting for the chance to show his son what a home was supposed to be like— warmth and softness and friendly faces and love. All the things a hospital seemed to lack.

Piper and Leo were at the hospital dealing with the financial aspects, and told Chris they would be more than happy to bring home their grandson while he finished the preparations for Lucky's room, which was actually going to be Casey's permanent room too.

A few months ago, Leo, in all his handy man glory, had drawn up a plan to redesign the basement into two rooms and a bath. With Wyatt's help the project was almost complete. The rooms were tiny but cozy.

Chris was currently in the smaller of the two areas, finishing the assembly of the crib he and Wyatt had used as infants while Wyatt was putting together the dresser that doubled as a changing table, which had been a gift from Paige and Henry.

"I suck at this," Chris announced, frowning down at the bars of the crib trying to figure out why they weren't going on very well.

"It's on backwards," Wyatt casually remarked. "Turn it around."

Chris did as told, the piece sliding into place perfectly. "I knew that."

"Yeah, sure you did."

Putting on the last section, Chris gazed triumphantly at the old cedar crib. "It still looks really nice even after all these years. Thank god our mother never gets rid of anything."

"Where's Casey?" Wyatt suddenly questioned, rising from his spot on the floor as he started putting the shelves in place. "I thought she and Molly would be all over this decorating job."

"She's still pretty sore. I think she's resting up in my room. Molly's at the store picking me up some diapers."

Wyatt quirked a brow, grinning.

Chris rolled his eyes. "For the baby, Smart ass."

Finishing with the dresser, Wyatt continued on his train of thought, "She's been kind of weird lately, though."

"Molly?"

"No, Casey. Molly's been amazing about all of this."

Chris smiled softly, "Yeah. I didn't really expect this to be so easy for her. She's practically giddy over it all."

"She's learned to look at Lucky as her charge, and a baby she was always meant to help care for. Plus, I think she knows if she wants to stay with you, she has to love Lucky. And Molly would do anything to be with you."

The look on Wyatt's face melted into grief, despite his best attempt at hiding it.

"No improvement on the Casey front, huh?"

"I think something's wrong with her."

"Because she's not falling all over herself over you?" Chris tried to tease.

Wyatt didn't even crack a smile. "She's not herself. Have you noticed how every time you mention Lucky she changes the subject? Jessica took Casey to the NICU the other day, and then told me later Casey didn't even want to touch him. She said she was tired and went back to her room."

"She had a C-section, nearly lost her baby, saw you cheat on her. . .she's been through a lot. It's probably just a little overwhelming right now."

"She's not here with us. The old Case would be directing us and telling us how it's all supposed to look. She'd be going on a million miles an hour about how he's coming home today. She wouldn't be sitting in her room by herself."

Chris shrugged, "I don't know what to tell you. Is it possible you're trying to find something wrong with her to explain away why she won't take you back?"

"I'm worried, but I can't talk to her about it. She won't talk to me."

"So you want me to talk to her about it?"

"You're her best friend."

Chris let out a long breath. "Okay, but would you keep working down here? We don't have real long till mom and dad get back with Lucky."

Wyatt nodded, almost immediately resuming his work as Chris left the room and headed up the stairs. He was surprised to find Kip and Jessica standing in the kitchen. Jessica was holding a stuffed teddy bear, and Kip had a bottle of extra-strength aspirin.

"For the baby," Jess explained, handing Chris the little brown bear. "It's all soft and snuggly. Plus, if you turn the knob on the back it makes the same sounds a baby hears in the womb. Since he had to leave early, I thought it might help him adjust to life in his crib."

"Thanks, he'll love it."

Kip handed over the aspirin. "Mine's more practical. You'll need these soon. Lots and lots of 'em. I'd have gotten you booze, but I'm not old enough to buy it myself yet."

"Thanks for reminding me I'm not old enough to drink but old enough to be a dad. Cause I'm not freaking out already or anything."

Jess waved him off. "You'll be fine. I've seen you with your little cousins, and they adore you. I bet it'll be even easier with your own baby. Besides, you have Case to help you, and she's a natural at everything."

"I was actually just going up to check on her," Chris said, "want to come up?"

"Can't C-man," Kip answered. "We're having dinner with the 'rents, and if we're a minute late I'll get lectured for days." He looked at his watch. "And we're almost there as is."

"We just wanted to quick drop these off," Jessica explained. "But give her lots and lots and lots and lots of love from both of us. And remind her to _call me_. Anytime. I'll be there."

"Sure thing."

Exchanging quick hugs, the group split apart. Kip practically drug his girlfriend through the front door while she looked almost sorrowfully up the stairs to where her best friend was surely recovering. Meanwhile, Chris headed up those very stairs to visit with the young woman resting in his room.

With a soft knock on the door first, he entered his room, a little surprised at what he found.

Casey was sitting up in bed, her eyes staring at nothing. Her face was completely devoid of all emotion. She didn't even turn to look at him as he entered. Her entire body just remained still as stone.

"Case?"

Nothing.

Chris moved over to sit on the bed next to her. "Case, you okay?"

Her head moved mechanically toward him. She blinked a few times before nodding.

"You don't really seem like it," he countered, suddenly seeing exactly what his brother had been talking about earlier. "Others have sort of noticed a change too." He decided leaving Wyatt out of the equation was for the best.

"Lucky's coming home today," she stated simply.

"Yeah," Chris smiled, "should be here any minute."

As if on cue, the doors downstairs were heard opening, footsteps resounding on the wood floor.

"That should be them now," Chris enthused. "Why don't I go grab Lucky and come back up. It's probably about time for his bottle. You can feed him."

Casey's hand shot out, gripping the top of his arm tightly. "No." She shook her head, blushing lightly. "I mean, I'm really tired. You can do it."

Chris frowned, recognizing the words. "Have you held Lucky since he orbed to you in the hospital?"

"Sure I have."

"I don't believe you."

"Believe what you want. He's my son. Of course I want to hold him. If it means that much to you, go get him."

Chris didn't hesitate as he orbed downstairs. Appearing right in front of his mother and father, he let a grin slide over his face at the sight of his little boy wrapped in a soft green blanket, a matching cap on his head. The little one was sleeping, thumb in mouth. Barely five pounds, he was toy-like in Leo's large arms.

"I think your daddy wants you now," Leo murmured softly to the sleeping child. "I don't really want to share you, but I guess he does sort of have dibs, doesn't he? Yeah."

Chris rolled his eyes good naturedly before taking his son from his father. "Thanks guys. I'm just going to take him up to see his mom. Wyatt's downstairs finishing up the nursery."

Before either parent could even speak Chris was gone. His orbs raced back up to his room where he reappeared before Casey with the sleeping baby in his arms. The little one hadn't even twitched during or after the orbing.

Chris moved over to the bed, carefully handing the child to his mother. "There you go, Lucky. There's your mom."

Casey held the child gently, but her eyes refused to look down at him. After a moment, Lucky awoke. Blinking a few times, the child then began to cry– hard. Loud wails of displeasure shook his entire little body, which was turning red as he screamed.

"Take him," Casey said, practically shoving the baby back to his father.

"It's okay, Lucky," Chris soothed, rocking the child until the baby's eyes slowly drifted shut again. "There. All better. Just sleep."

Chris was about to announce the crying had stopped, but it hadn't. Only this time it wasn't his son doing the crying.

Her lips pursed tightly, eyes squeezed shut, Casey softly cried, fighting not to lose control of her already tattered emotions. When she felt Chris slip a free arm around her, the tie she held on them snapped, sobs wracking her small frame.

"Shhh. It's okay. Whatever it is; it's going to be fine. I promise."

"I'm a h-horrible mother," Casey admitted, nearly choking on a sob. "I can't do this. I c-can't."

Chris felt like he'd been slapped, the surprise hitting him as a physical blow would. "What? What are you talking about?"

"He hates me, and I don't blame him." Her breath hitched, and it took a moment before she could continue. "I almost cost him his life. Now, I can't offer him what he needs." Off of Chris' confused look, "I can't breast feed. He came too early, and the meds they put me on make it hard to produce any milk. Milk has so many nutrients he needs. He's supposed to get it, and I can't give him that."

"First of all, what do you mean you almost cost him his life? Case, you were almost killed by a psycho demon. What part of that is your fault?"

"The part where. . ." she swallowed thickly, "where I let my feelings for Wyatt make me vulnerable enough to let the demon get to me. I let my feelings take over, and if I hadn't maybe I would have carried to term."

Chris used his thumb to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "Listen to me. Listen really hard. The doctors said a million times it was the fetal anemia that caused the pre-term labor. There was nothing you could have done differently."

"I was alone because of my own stupidity. If I had been inside. . ."

"You were hurt. It's understandable. It's not like you were intentionally putting him in harm's way. Besides, he loves you. Lucky orbed to you from his incubator for crying out loud. That has to mean something, right?"

Casey sniffled. "It doesn't change anything."

"Because of the whole breast feeding thing?"

She nodded.

"Lots of moms don't breast feed. I seriously doubt the kids hold any sort of grudge."

"He cries whenever I try to hold him. He doesn't want me near him. He knows I'm no good at this."

Chris smiled sadly, "He cries because he can feel how upset you are. Babies are like little empaths. They feel everything. Until you're calm, Lucky never will be."

"See," Casey agreed, "I'm not good at this. I'm not good for him. He shouldn't be around me. I just make him cry and feel bad. He deserves better. He deserves Mol–." She abruptly cut herself off, lowering her dark eyes to the comforter.

Chris' mouth fell open slightly. "Molly? Is that what you were going to say?"

"She's going to be his mother someday anyway. Might as well start now."

"Is that what this is really about? Your fear of the future? That some day, some very far away day, you _might_ die and leave Lucky without you?"

The young woman didn't answer.

"He needs you, Case. For as long as he can have you, he needs you. Our son deserves to have you in his life for as much time as Fate allows. Molly will never be a replacement for you. Ever. No one will be able to fill that role for him. Don't steal what precious time he's going to have with you."

Casey bit her lip, slowly raising her gaze. "I don't think I can do this. Every time I look at him I just feel so. . .horrible. Worthless and overwhelmed and just . . .horrible. I cry and then he cries and we both end up crying, so I stopped. I don't want to hurt him anymore."

"Is that why you cringe at the thought of touching him?"

"He's better off without me." Casey suddenly pulled away from Chris, rolling onto her side. "I just want to sleep now. Please. Just take him. Please just take him..."

Chris nodded, slowly rising from the bed, Lucky once again fast asleep in his arms as he orbed down into the basement to find his parents. As all sets of eyes fell on him and his sleeping son, Chris announced, "We have a problem. I think Casey has postpartum."

000

Wyatt had discussed the plan with his younger brother, and the two had come to the mutual agreement that they needed help if they were ever going to trap Zayel. Professional help from people they could trust. So, while Chris was busy talking to Casey, Wyatt had decided now was as good a time as any to set things in motion. Everything was pretty much done in the nursery, and if the Twice Blessed didn't keep himself occupied he'd be far too tempted to listen in on the conversation.

He dialed the number, waiting for the voice to pick up on the other end.

"_Hello?"_

"Hi, this is Wyatt Halliwell. I'm not sure if you remember me but– "

"_Halliwell? Yeah, sure. The witches, right?"_

"Right. Listen, you said if ever we needed a hand to give you guys a call. Well, my family's sort of up to our necks right now, and we could really use a supernatural assist. Are you up for it?"

"_What's the gig?"_

"I need you to find a demon named Zayel– any information you can get will be useful. The sooner the better. It's life or death."

There was a soft snort on the other end. _"Kind of goes with the territory, Kid. These things tend to go down bloody."_

"Are you in or not?"

"_Oh, we're in. Winchesters never miss a good fight."_

_tbc..._


	56. To the Moon and Back

CHAPTER 56

**To the Moon and Back**

Molly smiled down at her tiny charge as he enthusiastically sucked down the four ounces of formula she'd prepared for him only moments earlier. His little cheeks worked furiously to get every last drop out of the fiendish trap the silly adult had placed his food in. The minuscule forehead of the infant creased slightly at all the hard work.

"He really doesn't like that," a voice announced.

Molly grinned at Kip as the teen leaned against the doorframe. "He loves it. Look at him eat it up." She returned her gaze to the newborn, her voice going mushy, "Like the big strong boy he is. Yes. Big and strong."

"He also would prefer if you talked to him like a person rather than a puppy."

The whitelighter wrinkled her nose. "You're making that up."

Kip shrugged. "Fine don't believe the telepath. Don't blame me when the kid develops a complex."

The young woman looked momentarily concerned before she saw the tiny grin pulling at the boy's mouth. She mock-glared at him. "Not funny. I'm nervous enough as it is."

Kip sighed. "Babies' thoughts are so random. Not even thoughts really. More like pictures and feelings. I almost feel like an empath around them since they don't know a real language yet."

"How does he feel right now?"

"Frustrated. He keeps thinking about the milk. I think he wants it to come out faster."

"Hmm." Molly glanced down at her charge, "It'll make your tummy upset if you drink it too fast, silly."

The baby just frowned up at her, still working the nipple of the bottle furiously in his tiny mouth.

"Is Chris around?" Kip finally asked, looking more than a little annoyed.

"You're kind of grouchy today. What's wrong?"

"My best friend is a father. My girlfriend's best friend is the mother. Suddenly the earth revolves around this tiny little butterball of spit, pee, poop and loud noises. It sort of sucks."

"He's with Casey in the nursery downstairs. They just got back from their therapy session with an old charge of Leo's. I think it took a toll on her, and Chris is trying to help. It's so hard for him. Her too, I guess. Just...right now? It's almost like he's a single teenage parent."

"He's got you. And Jessica helps. Plus the whole Halliwell clan is always circling the kid. He's not alone."

"I know," Molly sighed. "Lucky just needs his momma. Don't you little guy?"

"She any better since Piper and Leo drug her to the shrink?"

"Some days are better than others. He's got her taking something to help with the depression, but to be honest, I"m not sure she always takes it. She thinks it means she's weak or that something's wrong with her. Chris sometimes sneaks it into her food."

Kip stuck his hands in his pockets before quietly confessing, "I feel a little helpless. I've known them both forever, and now, I feel like I don't know either of them at all."

Molly was struck by the unusual seriousness in the other youth. It unnerved her.

"Jessica just goes with it. She's so good at all of this stuff. Coping, I mean. She's always over here helping with Lucky, decorating the nursery and Casey's room. She just knows how to push through. I don't know how to do that. I'm the funny one. The one that makes people laugh and cheers them up by acting stupid." The young man's brown eyes raised to meet Molly's hazel. "There's nothing funny about any of this."

"Go talk to Chris," Molly advised. "He misses his friend. Wyatt's so busy trying to help Casey, he doesn't always remember to save enough energy for his little brother. You're his best friend. Go be there for him. Anyway you can. Even if it's awkward for you. Just go. Just. . .be present for him."

Kip nodded, pursing his lips together.

As he left the room, Molly looked down at the little boy in her arms and let out a long, weary sigh. "I think, Little One, people over think things. Lesson one from your whitelighter: Don't ever over think caring for others. Just do it."

000

"_Pedazo de mierda_."

Chris bent down to pick up the broken lamp pieces, carefully avoiding looking up into the seething latina's face. He knew he wouldn't like what he found there waiting for him.

She'd found out he'd been slipping her medicine into her food. Judging by the lamp she'd chucked at him, enraged was a good word to describe her reaction.

"You have no right. None. What the hell were you thinking, Chris? This is my body. My mind. My _life."_

Tired beyond the capacity for any sort of eloquence, Chris merely responded, "Sorry."

Thirty dollars worth of lamp pieces were discarded into the trash bin.

Casey closed her eyes taking a deep breath. "I'm not...I can't even...do you know what this is like? Do you? Feeling like this all the time? You don't. You can't. It's not the same for you. It's all happy and bright colors and loving Lucky and being the _good_ parent. I can't even hold him. I can't look at him without feeling this overwhelming sense of self-loathing. Do you think I _enjoy_ feeling this way? That I choose to?"

"I'm starting to wonder," Chris muttered, rising from his squatted position on the floor.

"_Como?_"

"You heard me."

Sleep deprived, frustrated and completely at wits end, Chris felt the cauldron of emotions inside him finally bubble over. "It's been three weeks since we brought him home. The doctor says you need the medicine to compensate for all the whacked out hormones and that it's totally normal to feel the way you feel, but you're too damn stubborn to take them. You think you can will this away, and news flash– you can't. I had to do something, all right? I had to. You're not the only one that feels overwhelmed here. Mom and Dad are doing everything they can to help, but they've already been parents. They've got their own lives, and this is ours to deal with. It's ours to figure out. Do you know what it's like working full time, going to school, _and_ trying to take care of Lucky pretty much on my own? If it weren't for Molly, I'd have lost it two weeks ago."

"Molly, Molly, Molly. She's soooo perfect. She's soooo sweet and compassionate and patient and loving and blah blah blah. I'm going to cut off my ears if I have to hear one more word about how much better at all this she is than I am."

"Damn it, would you stop that? You know that's not what I meant. Why are you acting this way? You should be thankful she's here to help us out."

Casey rolled her eyes. "Remind me to get on my knees and thank the powers that be that Saint Molly is around. Couldn't possibly survive without her."

"You're being impossible. If you weren't Lucky's mother and clinically ill, I'd throttle you myself."

Casey suddenly paused, her eyes becoming vapid pools of melted chocolate. Everything in her face turned off like a switch had been thrown. Then, her knees gave out and she collapsed onto the edge of the bed.

Sighing, Chris slowly moved in front of her, his hands taking hers. "Hey. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"Nope. You should have done it. A good smack is what I need." She sniffled, shaking her head. "What the hell is the matter with me, Chris? Why can't I just do what Dr. Flint says?"

"Stubborn. Willful. Insanely unhealthily independent...I could keep going," Chris teased.

Casey took a deep breath, wiping at her eyes in irritation with herself. "I hate feeling like this. Like every part of me is out of control and helpless and completely. . .lost. I hate that I'm a horrible mother to our son. I feel like every move I make is wrong."

"It's not," he soothed. "Lucky adores you."

"I did manage to convince myself to pick him up when he was crying the other day, and he stopped for a while."

"Mhmm." Chris moved a strand of hair from her face, pushing it gently behind her ear. "And it'll only get better if you follow Dr. Flint's instructions. Depression like yours isn't so uncommon. It's not something to feel ashamed about. It doesn't make you weak or horrible. But, I can't take you running from it any more. I need your help. We're supposed to be partners, remember?"

"I thought it would get better with time. If I just kept trying harder. . ."

"I know."

"I need the drugs don't I?"

Chris offered a tired smile. Pulling the prescription bottle from his coat pocket he handed it to her. "Not going to flush these down the toilet again, are you?"

"No."

"Okay, then. Here." He handed over the bottle.

Casey pursed her lips. "I've never been on anti-depressants before."

"It's just to take the edge off."

"I'm not weak?"

"Never."

The young woman picked up a glass of water from the night stand, opened the container and with eyes closed, took one of the capsules. When she opened her eyes, they were full of grief. "I hate that I can't do this on my own."

"I know," Chris calmly said, a hand instinctively going to her cheek. "But, it's not for you. It's for me and Lucky. We need you. We've both missed you."

"You've missed me?"

Chris was hit by the pure surprise and utter innocence in the question. How could she not realize he'd missed his friend? She was the mother of his child, and she had been absent emotionally for weeks, too full of pain and fear to exist at even semi-normal levels. How could she think he wouldn't care enough to miss her?

"Of course, I did. You're one of the most important people in my life."

And then it happened. Something neither had planned and one certainly hadn't seen coming.

Casey kissed him. Softly. Slowly. Her lips moved over his with a muted desire. Her kiss was a need to feel the importance, to feel loved and essential. The kiss was not passionate, nor even romantic in nature. It was one human reaching out for another. A connection through the most basic of animal gestures.

An observer wouldn't have known this though. And didn't.

"I guess I'll come back later."

Chris pulled away from the embrace in time to see Kip's disgusted face turn around and walk back out of the room.

000

Piper Halliwell was making supper, humming softly and trying not to dwell on the dramas of her family. Her sons were almost adults, and while she would forever want and need to protect them from everything while simultaneously taking care of whatever they needed, she couldn't. Shouldn't, she supposed was the better word. One Leo had been saying to her a lot lately.

When Lucky cried in the middle of the night, it was Piper's first instinct to run to him, taking care of the little one and her youngest son all in one. She nearly had done just that. Leo had taken her hand, rubbing the back with his thumb and calmly saying, "He's not our son. He's our grandson. Let Chris learn. Let him live the life he's made for himself. He'll ask for help when he needs it."

"But we're his parents, we should make this situation easier for them..."

Leo, in all his wisdom had explained, "No, we really shouldn't. Being a parent isn't ever supposed to be easy. It's the largest most important task a being is ever given. We shouldn't deprive Chris a moment of it. No matter how hard it may be for us to stand by and watch him struggle. It'll all be worth it for him in the end. For both of them."

In other words, Piper was to butt out. Not something she was good at– especially when it came to her children. So, she cooked. A lot. Probably too much, actually.

She was mildly surprised when the door bell rang half way through making her casserole. No one rang their bell. Ever. Demons burst through the doors– literally– her sisters just popped by unannounced, and her kids, well, they had keys (not that they ever locked the door).

Giving a last quick toss to the side salad, the eldest Charmed One went to answer the door.

Swinging open the door to find two young men and a little girl on the other side, Piper let her brow furrow slightly as she forced a smile to her face. "Hi. Can I help you?"

"Help us?" the shorter one snorted. "Ain't it the other way around, Lady?"

"Dean," the taller man chastised, clearly embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Maam. My brother tends to be a bit rude when he hasn't eaten, and it's been an awfully long drive here. Wyatt told us this was an emergency."

"Dean," Piper narrowed her eyes, something registering in the back of her mind. "The hunters, right? You're name is Sam?"

"That's right. And this is my daughter, Mary," the man continued, gesturing to the dark haired girl hiding behind his legs. "We met about a year ago. . .in a cemetery."

Piper grinned, "Right. I remember that." She swung the door the rest of the way open. "Well, come on in."

"Niiice," Dean remarked, taking in the manor.

Sam rolled his eyes, letting out a long, tired sigh. "Did your son tell you we were coming, Ms. Halliwell"

"Piper. And not really. No. Things have been a bit, well, stressful around here."

"Piper," Molly's voice floated down the stairs, her body showing up a moment later, "I promised Prue I would be home for dinner tonight. I guess she has something to tell me. I can't find Chris, and Wyatt's in the shower. Could you take Lucky?"

"Absolutely," Piper beamed, taking the sleeping child with the skill only a mother could possess.

"Who's this little guy," Sam questioned, smiling widely at the tiny child.

"Lucas. We all call him Lucky, though."

The little girl moved from behind her Uncle Dean and stared wide eyed at the sleeping baby. Her quiet voice slowly remarked, "He's the pwettiest baby I ever sawed."

"Guess she likes 'em young," Dean joked, earning a glare from his brother. "What? I'm making conversation. Geez, lighten up, Sammy."

Molly smiled, "I thought it was funny."

"See, someone around here as a sense of humor."

"Tell Chris I'll call him later," Molly addressed to Piper before grabbing her coat from the rack and heading toward the door.

"Sure, Molly."

Sam frowned. "Molly?"

Dean tensed by his brother's side.

Piper frowned. "What? What is that look?"

Sam let out a long breath, shooting a sidelong look to his brother as though the two were silently debating what to say next.

It was Mary who finally spoke next, "Daddy had one of his dreams."

"Dreams?" Piper questioned.

Sam looked almost embarrassed as he lowered his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets. "I have these. . .abilities. Sometimes, when I dream things. . .they come true."

Molly, a little more than concerned at the moment, moved back into the room. "You had a dream about me?"

"I dreamed you were an angel. You saved Mary from something."

"From what?'

"I never saw that part. In fact, I never really saw your face. Just your back. But, more importantly Mary said your name. It was almost like she had known you before."

Piper turned her gaze to Molly, "Sounds to me like you just got yourself another charge."

"What does that mean?" Dean questioned.

Orb lights lit the room, cascading down in a fountain of light. Who formed in the middle was utterly unexpected though. With bright green eyes and shaggy brown hair, a grown up Lucky Halliwell calmly turned to look at the two hunters. "Dean, Sam. Thank God. Maybe you two can do something about the fact somebody screwed up my future. Again."

tbc. . .


	57. Back in Time

Sorry this has taken forever to get out. I'm finally starting an original story with the insane hopes of getting it published, so my time is focused more on that. HOWEVER, I do still plan on finishing this one, and working on its sequel.

Chapter 57  
Back in Time

Chris was a young man of considerable patience. He possessed more than most teenagers his age by far. However, the last month had been hellish. Over worked and over tired, he had been scraping the bottom of the barrell lately in order to find any understanding for, well, just about anything. So, when his best friend, who had been dating his brother for nearly a year decided to kiss him? He could almost literally feel his head spontaneously explode. As it was, the migraine he'd had for several days now was making his brain pulse painfully.

He wanted to yell. He wanted to yell and curse. Take the young woman by the arms and shake her so hard her brain started to hurt. Maybe the vibrations would bring back her common sense, which had been sorely lacking lately.

"You better go after him," Casey quietly mumbled.

"I don't have the energy right now," Chris answered, voice far more calm than it had any reason to be. With the millionth exhausted, frustrated sigh, the young man questioned, "What the hell, Case? Just. . .what the hell?"

She swiped away a tear, shaking her head while her eyes searched the ceiling for some sort of proper response. After a moment, she was finally able to look at her friend and offer, "I don't know. It's you. You make my head dizzy, and I do stupid things."

"Very stupid."

"I'm sorry."

"You're always sorry. When are you just going to stop doing it?" When she didn't immediately answer, Chris understood. Deflated, he took a seat next to her on the bed. "I love Molly."

"I like Molly. She's a sweet person. I'm sorry I said all that stuff earlier. I didn't mean it. Mostly didn't. She's good for you, though. I see that."

Chris agreed, "She's what I need. Always has been." His jade eyes narrowed slightly, examining his friend's face carefully while he guessed at what was going through her mind. "It's because of Lucky, right? You've got some perfect little family picture running through your head of me and you and the baby?" Off her silence, "It's not reality. It'll never be reality, Case. I'm not in love with you. Those feelings left a long time ago. I thought we were past all this? Or is part of the depression? You go on a mission to destroy every good thing in your life?"

"Maybe." Casey ran her hand through her hair. "Or maybe it's something else. I don't know. I've been having weird dreams lately. Since Lucky was born, actually. I know they're just dreams, but they're always so. . .so nice. A family day at the park like my dad used to do with me. You carrying Lucky on your shoulders, your hand in mine. Some others more– ahem– you know. . ."

"Yeah. I can guess." Chris shook his head. "It's not healthy to have those thoughts, Case. I know it's probably in part because of the post-partum, but you need to fight it, okay? I don't want you to ruin our friendship. And if you can't let this go, that's what's going to happen. Besides, I thought you were friends with Molly now. She's been way more understanding towards you than she had to be. Don't betray her trust in you. In us."

"You should go. Spend some time with Molly. You've been so wrapped up in fatherhood and taking care of your insane, pathetic friend, you've been neglecting her."

"What are you going to be doing?"

"Slitting my wrists while drowning myself in the tub. What do you think, Chris? I'm going to nap. It's the only thing I can't screw up at this point."

"Just try to dream about Wy, okay? He's the one you belong with, not me."

Which was when Chris' mind was pulled inward, zapping his focus away from the present to an entirely different place and time.

"_I don't belong here. This wasn't how it was all supposed to go down," a more scruffy version of himself was ranting. _

_An older looking Casey, her hair longer again, hanging in soft curls, rolled her eyes in frustration. "Why because you might get to be happy? Heaven forbid that. Or is this about _her_? It is, isn't it? Chris, go find her if you want. No one's stopping you."_

"_She won't know me. Everything's changed. The world isn't what it was when we knew each other. Nothing is the same. Mom's alive. Dad's actually present. Wyatt's. . .well, you know. And my whole life has altered. It isn't even my life anymore. It belongs to someone else, which is just another reason I shouldn't be here." With a long, weary sigh, Chris confessed, "The only thing that hasn't changed really. . .is you. Which is surprising considering you're supposed to be dead."_

"_So you've mentioned." Casey put her hand to Chris' cheek. The witchlighter was older, hardened somehow. His eyes seemed to belong to man of twice Chris' years, who had seen hell and clawed his way back with sheer determination. "I'm not dead, though. I'm standing right here with you. I may not be the girl you remember, but you can trust me. Let me help you get through this."_

_The man pulled away from her touch. "I can't be here right now."_

"_Why? What exactly are you running from?"_

_Jade eyes returned to her worried face. "I fought Wyatt for most of my life. I don't want to create another reason for a battle with him. If I stay here, and I keep seeing you. . .it's not right. My thoughts take me down a path I was never supposed to go down."_

"_Hey, Perry? You down here?"_

_Casey worried her bottom lip, her eyes darting to the attic door. "Looks like Chris is home early."_

"_He wouldn't like this," Perry murmured. "He's loyal to his brother. Same as me."_

"_We're not doing anything wrong."_

_Perry shot her a crooked grin, his eyes sad. "No. But we would."_

Chris' eyes snapped open, his lungs burning as he gasped for air, having held his breath for the duration of the vision which had run through his mind. His chest ached as he fought to calm down.

"Chris?"

"I have to go."

"Chris, _qué pasó_?"

`"You're right, I need to go see Molly. Just realized it's been a long time since I saw her."

"_Mentira_."

"I'm not lying," Chris automatically answered before turning on his heel and half-running from the basement.

Casey's brows furrowed together. "You understood me. Since when are you any good with spanish?"

000

Dean Winchester's eyes were saucers as he gazed on the sudden appearance of the boy from the future. He'd seen magic. He'd seen demons. He'd been to the past himself once long ago. However, something about this kid knowing him, talking to him with such fond familiarity. . .weirder than dingoes eating babies.

"Excuse me, who are you?" Sam managed to ask.

"Sorry, name's Lucky. You'll meet me soon enough. No worry there." The young man turned to his whitelighter, "I came to tell you something."

Molly could only blink as she stared into the face of the teenage version of the baby she'd just spent the afternoon feeding and rocking. The eyes of her lover within the features of her new found friend. Disconcerting didn't quite cover it.

"Can I talk to you for a sec?"

Molly nodded helplessly as the teenager drug her out of the room before allowing an answer. The likeness to his father didn't escape her one bit.

As future charge drug his whitelighter from the space, Piper turned to her guests. "Well, uh. . .are you hungry?"

Dean gave her his famous smile while his brother and niece both rolled their eyes.

Meanwhile, Lucky had orbed his charge up to the attic. As soon as they materialized the young man began to pace. Back and forth, back and forth, his posture and gait strikingly familiar to the young woman.

"Is this about Zayel?" Molly wondered aloud. "That's why the Winchesters are here. Wyatt called them."

"No. Not him. That gets taken care of the way it's supposed to be taken care of. He isn't even a blimp on the radar."

"Really? Then, why. . .?"

Lucky stopped dead in his tracks. "Do you have _any_ idea how complicated the future was to begin with? My mother was married to my uncle. My father was married to my whitelighter. It was dingo ate my baby weird, but completely okay at the same time. Sort of. I mean, personally, I hate Uncle Wyatt, but that's not because he didn't love mom or even me. Just. . .his priorities really suck. You know? Of course you do, I said all that before. About mom. How he just let her go like he was powerless to stop it."

"Was he?"

"No. Which was totally proved by Perry."

"Who?"

"Another brilliant mistake by dear Uncle Wyatt, only this one somehow comes around to bite him in the ass."

Molly frowned. "I don't understand."

"You wouldn't. It doesn't happen yet." Lucky ran a hand through his hair. "God, I don't even know what to wish for at this point. Perry in our lives is both a blessing and a curse. He's not supposed to be there. He was supposed to cease to exist. Die for all intents and purposes, but now he's here. There. My time. You follow me?"

"Not even a little."

"Uncle Wyatt was never my favorite person, but now? It's a mess. Everything is a mess all over again. Except for Mom. She's alive now. But everything is all wrong. Get me? It's not the way it was supposed to be."

"Lucky?"

The pair turned to the sound of the voice in the doorway, hardly surprised to see the boy's father. His brows were knit together, arms folded over his chest. "What are you doing back?"

"I had to warn Molly about something that happens five years from now, so she could think up a way to stop it...or prepare or something."

"What happens?" Chris asked, his throat thick as the vision he'd had suddenly popped into his mental vision.

The young man narrowed his eyes. "I can't tell you. Not that I don't want to, but I literally can't. You have to trust me, Dad. You couldn't stop it anyway. This one is out of your hands."

"I don't buy it. What could possibly be out of my hands."

"The past. That's all I'll say. Now, please. . .I have to tell Molly. She's the only one I can trust with this."

Molly moved to Chris' side. Putting her hands on either side of his waist she looked up into his concern filled face with pure trust and love. "He's your son. You only have yourself to blame for his stubborn nature. Besides, you really think I would let anything happen to him?"

The mere gaze of the woman he loved lessened the aching burn in Chris' chest. He smiled softly down at her. Unable to control the impulse, not truly wanting to, he bent down, lightly brushing his lips against her soft pair. He breathed in the smell of her shampoo, drinking her in. As he did so, every last ounce of frustration and fear was dispelled.

He reluctantly parted from her, his hands going to the sides of her head, staring into her hazel eyes. "I love you."

Molly blushed just as she had the first time he'd uttered those words. "I love you too."

"I'm sorry I haven't been around for you lately."

"What brought all this on right now?"

"You should know, Casey kissed me."

Molly sighed. "She's really not herself, is she?"

Lucky choked on air, forcing a cough to hide his awkwardness. As the couple looked over at him he put hand to the back of his head, shifting nervously. "Traveled through time here, people. Could we maybe speed this up, please?"

"She's sick," Chris agreed, though his eyes never left the sheepish look on his son's face.

"If she weren't I'd have to kill her with my bare hands," Molly half-joked.

Chris finally returned to look down at her serene face. "You're not upset? Jealous? Pissed?"

"You have a child together. What more trouble could she be to us? Besides, Lucky just said we're married in his time, so really, what's a girl got to worry about? I get insider info on the fact I actually get to be with my Prince Charming forever. Nothing can rattle me now."

"You had any doubt?" Chris cupped her face. "Molly, sometimes you can be so absurd. You're the one. When the day comes, I will definitely be at the end of the aisle waiting for you to lose your mind and think I'm good enough for you."

"I'm definitely going to vomit soon," Lucky moaned, though a smile was still on his face.

Molly kissed her lover once more before letting out a sigh. "I should tell you the Winchesters are here. Oh, and I guess I get another charge in the future. The little girl. Marie."

"Mary," Lucky corrected a little too quickly. When the adults looked back at him he blushed. "What? Her name is Mary. We're close in the future, that's all."

Chris gazed knowingly at his son. "Uh-huh. Right."

"Go, get Wyatt and talk to them. Figure out how we get rid of Zayel once and for all so we can get on with our lives."

"You still going to be here?" Chris questioned his son.

"Can't stay. Got too much going on back home."

"In that case, I'll see you there?"

Lucky broke out into a large smile. "Course. Love ya, Dad."

"Love you too, Kiddo." Chris frowned, shaking his head. "So very weird. You're my age."

"Don't I know it," the son remarked.

"Be safe."

"I think you already know me better than that."

Chris rolled his eyes. "Just try, okay?"

"Kay."

Chris gave Molly one more quick kiss before leaving to find the two guests and the little girl his son would someday fall in love with.

"You better start getting a lot clearer a lot faster," Molly started, turning her attention back to her future step-son.

"Okay, five years from now, Dad is going to disappear for a while. Whatever you do, do _not_ let my mother go after him. It's imperative. She'll end up changing everything by accident, and while in some ways it's the greatest thing to have ever happened, it's not worth it. Trust me. Please, promise me."

"Why are you telling me this now? Why not five years from now? Four even?"

"Because there's something else." He took a deep breath, "You need to get my mom back on the horse asap. She needs to get a whole lot closer to Uncle Wy a whole lot faster in order for you to stand a chance of getting her to stay put. I think that's the key. I'm not sure though. Just. . .I don't remember them breaking up ever before, but now? They were broken up for years. I think Zayel somehow changed that."

"I thought you didn't like them together?"

"I don't. But apart? Let's just say it's not good for the world."

"You're scaring me."

"That's kind of the point."

Molly pursed her lips as she tried to absorb all the information. "So Chris disappears?"

"Right, but he'll be fine. Promise."

"And I have to get your mother and uncle back together?"

"Unfortunately."

Molly shook her head helplessly. "Okay. I'll try."

"It's all I'm asking."

000

Wyatt Halliwell set his jaw as he considered what Sam Winchester had just told him and the rest of the group gathered in the tiny kitchen of Halliwell Manor. On the one hand, the two men had definitively tracked down Zayel, but on the other hand, they wanted in on the battle in exchange for that exact locale. It wasn't what Wyatt had planned for when he called them.

"Look," Dean started, mouth half-full of Piper's freshly cooked dinner. "It's not like we're civilians here, Dude."

Piper smirked at the man, amused both by his maintained enthusiasm for the hunt as well as his great enjoyment over her cooking. She then noticed the little girl at the table, poking at her food, pouting ever so slightly. Motherly instinct kicked in. "Something wrong, Sweetie?"

Mary looked up, green eyes wide. "Mommy used to make this before the bad man came back."

"Bad man?" Leo questioned, absently bouncing his grandson in his arms.

"Long story," Sam quietly answered.

"For what it's worth," Piper said, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Sam only nodded.

Dean, unable to stand the tension a moment longer, cut in, "Okay, so back to business." He wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve before leaning back in the chair, eyes piercing into the eldest Halliwell boy. "You need us. Period. You can either let us help, or figure it all out by your own stubborn, pig-headed self. Your call, witch boy."

"What's it to you?" Wyatt wondered. "Why do you want in on this hunt so badly?"

"Why do you want to keep us out of it?"

"Because it's our battle. He came after us, and I intend to send a message that _no one_ comes after my family without suffering the consequences. You being there only sends a message of weakness. I can't have that. My role in the magical community demands I stand on my own two feet."

"That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard," a new voice threw in.

Everyone turned to find Chris standing tall in the doorway. His eyes were narrowed in on his sibling. "This family isn't about one person, Wy. I thought you knew that. Your own two feet? Give me a God damn break. If I said something that idiotic you'd kick my ass."

"Language, Chris," Piper firmly admonished, adding a slight head tilt toward the little girl at the table.

Chris blushed slightly. "Sorry."

Mary waved him off. "S'okay. Uncle Dean swores all dah time."

"Oh does he?" Sam remarked, glaring at his big brother.

Dean forced a smile while slowly sinking in his chair.

"My point, though," Chris continued, "is that if they are willing to help, why not let them?"

Wyatt let the air deflate his body and pride. "Fine. Just one answer first. Why? Why are you so hell bent on being in on this fight? You tell me, and I won't argue. Not one more word."

"You're too involved," Sam slowly answered. "I know what that's like. That kind of emotional tie to a battle. . .it gets the people you love hurt. You need supporters who don't feel connected in that way. Dean and I have been doing this since we were kids. I swear to you, we won't let you down."

Chris, sensing more to it, pressed, "And?"

Sam relented, "And it would be nice to have some allies with your. . .ahem. . .gifts. If we help you with this, I was hoping we might be able to ask a favor in return."

"What kind of favor?" Piper curtly asked.

Dean was the one to answer. "We've been at this for way too long. Longer than either of us had imagined. We'd retired once. Planned to do the whole apple pie life, but things turned bad. Fact is, we don't have many ties left. People we can trust. Depending on how all this goes down. . .we were hoping we could rely on you when it comes to Mary."

Leo wondered aloud, "In what way?"

"We travel a lot. Sometimes we get into situations too dangerous to bring her along. We used to leave her with a friend of ours, Bobby, but he, ah. . ."

"Died," Chris finished. "So you need new babysitters, that it?"

"Not everyone is cut out to protect her, you understand? She's. . .special."

"Like you?" Piper guessed.

Sam nodded grimly.

"So, you fight this big battle with us, do well, and you get to drop her off with us whenever you need to protect her?" Wyatt summarized.

The Winchester brothers answered, "Right."

Piper smiled. "Well, why didn't you just say so?"

Wyatt's features went rigid again. "Zayel. Where is he?"

Dean placed a map on the table. A moment later he look out his favorite blade and stabbed it into the designated spot. Leaning back in his chair he grinned, "Now comes the fun part."

tbc. . .


	58. Take a Chance on Me

Total filler chapter, I will admit, but I had some strings to tie up before the fight with Zayel. After that, not too much left of the story.

CHAPTER 58

Take a Chance On Me

**Lucky was crying. It seemed the baby only knew how to make the one noise and thrived on doing it as loudly as possible as often as possible. His little pudgy cheeks were all red with the effort and tiny tears were trailing down them as his hands and legs swung, kicking and punching in frustration he couldn't articulate.**

Casey understood the feeling perfectly. Frustration with self and life and pretty much anything else was all she seemed to feel lately. She didn't know why. Nor did she really understand where it came from. She wished she could get away with screaming and crying and kicking and punching. Might help. Nothing else was at this point.

"He needs you to pick him up."

Casey was so not looking forward to this conversation. However, she was on the brink of adulthood. A new mother at that. She had to do things she didn't want to. Including talking to her best friend's girlfriend about what a lousy mother and over all person she was.

"He just needs you to hold him," Molly repeated from the doorway. The girl's soft voice was sympathetic but firm. "I know it's hard for you right now, but avoiding him isn't healthy for either of you."

"I took the medication," Casey snapped, whirling around to face the other teen. "I took the pill. I don't feel any different, though. Not one bit different. He's sobbing, and instead of wanting to comfort my son, I want to run as far away as possible. How sick is that?"

Molly let out a breath and moved quickly to the little boy's side, picking him up as though she'd been doing it her whole life. Instantly, the child quieted, his fist going into his mouth as his head lolled against the whitelighter's chest. "Shhhh, that's a good boy. Just relax. You're not alone."

The mother's face burned with jealousy and shame as she watched with what ease the other girl dealt with her son.

"I kissed Chris," she said, almost hoping to start a fight.

Molly didn't take the bait. "I know. He told me. He's really upset with you about it too."

"You're not mad?"

"No point in that. You're sick. In fact, you seem hell bent on ruining everything in your life, so I was pretty much expecting this to happen." Molly turned a knowing gaze to her sometimes friend. "You feel guilty about not being a good mother. You're trying to punish yourself. Push away those that care about you."

Casey rolled her eyes. "What? Are you my shrink now? What the hell do you know about what I'm going through, Molly? Huh? Tell me. Have you ever found yourself bleeding to death in a parking lot after finding the man you love screwing someone else? Have you ever felt the tiny life inside of you that you swore to protect slowly stop moving until you're certain your child is dead? Or how about waking up in a hospital all alone because your own mother thinks you're a disgusting freak and your father was murdered? Tell me, Molly, how the hell do you know what I'm feeling? They call what I have post-partum. I call it post traumatic stress disorder. This last year? Hell doesn't describe it. Now, I have to take care of this helpless, beautiful angel of a child, and I can't even take care of myself."

"You have help," Molly softly reminded. "We all care about you. We want you to be well again."

"You want me gone. I've been nothing but trouble for you."

Molly smiled slightly. "You've certainly made things interesting. . ."

Casey half cried and half laughed at the remark. She wiped her face with the back of her arm. "I hate this. I hate feeling like this all the time. My skin is always crawling and everything just sets me off. I don't like who I am right now."

"Give the medicine time to work. Things will get easier."

"I hope so. I really do."

Chris poked his head into the door. "Is Lucky okay?"

Molly held up the child for inspection. "Perfect as always."

Chris moved swiftly to his son's side, taking him up into his arms like a pro. As he rocked the child back and forth without any conscious knowledge of doing so, he kept his eyes trained on his girlfriend. "Everything else okay in here?"

"We're fine. Don't worry."

"Well, I just came in really to let you know we're taking off in a bit. The plan's set, so in a few hours, Zayel's going to be nothing but a bad memory."

"He's mine."

Chris sighed. "Casey, don't start."

"I want to be the one to kill that _pieza de mierda_. After everything that demon has taken from me and my family, I deserve to get a little of it back."

"You're not strong enough to be in on this fight, Case," Chris argued. "You're still sore and tired and emotionally– a total basket case."

"Let her come," a deeper voice interceded.

Casey turned to find a handsome stranger leaning his broad form against the door jam. "Who. . .?"

The green eyed man grinned, his eyes flirtatious. "Name's Dean. Dean Winchester. And you would be. . .?"

"Off limits," Chris firmly put in. "She's the mother of my child and the love of my brother's life."

Dean hesitated before concluding, "That's messed up, you know?"

Molly laughed. "You have _no_ idea."

"And you fit into this how?"

"I'm with this one," Molly answered, gesturing to Chris.

"Huh. Weird. Anyway, what I was saying was killing the monster that did this to her might be exactly what the doc ordered. I know a thing or two about revenge, and it might not solve your problems, but it sure does make you feel a helluva lot better."

"No. No freaking way."

Molly opened her mouth, but someone else's voice spoke the words on her mind. "I agree with Dean."

Molly turned her attention to the doorway to find Wyatt standing just outside the room. His blue gaze was locked on Casey, his face weary, almost afraid of what her reaction to seeing him would be. He slowly moved forward, switching his attention to his little brother. "If it was you, you' d never forgive us for leaving you behind. Think about it, Chris, she has a point. Zayel has hurt her more than anyone. She needs to be a part of this."

"No. She's not ready."

"What am I just a blur here? Don't I get a say?"

"Of course." "Not really."

Wyatt rolled his eyes at his brother. "She's done this before. She'll be fine."

"Look, I get you're desperate to find a way to be the white knight in her eyes again, but getting her killed isn't the best plan, Wyatt. She's unstable. Putting her in the fight. . .I'm not having it."

"You're not her keeper."

"She's Lucky's mother. He loses her early enough without you helping Death in the matter."

With those words, Chris orbed out of the room, Lucky's cries echoing off the walls even after the last orb light had gone.

Dean whistled lowly from the doorway. "That was intense. Am I right?" All eyes turned to give him the same displeased look. He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Okay, awkward. . .I'm just gonna," he gestured vaguely behind him. "Yeah. . ."

As the hunter made himself scarce, Wyatt turned to Molly. "Could you. . .?"

"On it."

Molly orbed after her boyfriend leaving the other two to themselves.

Wyatt licked his lips nervously, looking anywhere but at the woman he loved. "So. . .how are you?"

"You know how I am. You think I don't sense you spying on me, Wyatt?"

"I would never– "

She shot him a look to kill.

"I'm sorry," he offered. "I knew you didn't want to see me, but I wanted to make sure you were okay. I miss you."

Casey wiped away a stray tear, flopping down onto the nearby bed. "I hate this, Wyatt. I hate failing at everything I do. I've never failed at anything and now. . ." She shook her head. "You know about the ppd? Of course you do. Anyway, I took the pill. I have to get drugged up to be anywhere near my own child."

"Not quite true," Wyatt disagreed. "It's an illness. Just like taking medicine for an ear infection."

"Did you mean what you said? About me helping in the fight?"

The Twice Blessed took a seat next to her on the bed. "Yeah. I do. You've been fighting demons with us since we were all kids. It's not like you're a rookie. Besides, I think it might help you move on. As it is. . .you're stuck. It's like ever since your dad died you've been doing everything you can to punish yourself like it was somehow your fault."

"I still love you," she quietly confessed, staring at her hands.

"Is that why you kissed my brother?"

Casey's cheeks burned. "You heard?"

"Kip was ranting about it on his way out. I don't think I've ever seen him so serious before. He was worried. I could tell."

"I'm worried too." The young woman shook her head. "I don't understand why things can't just be easy. Why can't I just reconcile the fact you were drugged and would never hurt me given a choice. I just. . .I keep seeing _her_. I keep feeling exactly the way I did in that parking lot."

"You should never have had to go through that. I will never forgive myself."

"It wasn't really your fault."

"I still hate it."

Silence filled the space.

Wyatt finally offered, "I'll get Chris to let up. He's just scared. After almost losing you and Lucky, he's going to be overprotective for a bit."

"I know."

"Casey. . ."

The girl looked over to him.

"Is there any hope for us?"

"I don't know."

Wyatt slowly moved his hand toward hers, hesitating before finally taking her tiny hand. He smiled when she didn't pull away. "I'm willing to wait."

Casey looked down at their entwined hands and smiled softly. "It might be worth it."

***

Chris wasn't sure why he'd come to the statue garden in golden gate park. It wasn't somewhere he'd ever really paid much attention to before. For some reason, today, it was the first place he thought of when he wanted to escape. It was like it represented some sort of hope, and he needed that right now.

Lucky quieted in his arms, his little eyes staring widely up at his father.

"I shouldn't have said that to Uncle Wyatt. He loves your mom. Too much for his own good, I think. She's really. . .we'll go with complicated. Don't get me wrong, your mom is one awesome girl. She's tough and smart and funny and kind, but right now she's kind of a train wreck. You know. You've seen it. She hasn't even held you. Who wouldn't want to hold you? You're perfect."

The little boy blinked as if in agreement.

Chris smiled at him. "You're going to really love her when she's better. She'll be a great mom. I know she will."

"Chris?"

The boy turned toward the sound of his girlfriend's voice. "Hey."

"You okay?"

"No. Not really." Chris sighed. "I overreacted back there, didn't I?"

Molly sat next to him on the marble bench. "Just a tad. She deserves to help. Wyatt and Dean are right. If she's not there, she'll never get the closure she needs. I was talking to her before you came in, and it's not just the ppd. She's been hurting a long time. I don't think she ever really stopped. Now, with all the hormones and everything it's just too much for her to handle."

"But that's my point. She's too messed up to think clearly, and in a fight this big, it could get her killed."

"You would never let that happen. And Wyatt wouldn't either. He'd die for her."

"That's not a good thing."

"Chris."

"It's not. He's way more in love with her than she is with him."

"You don't know that."

"She kissed me."

Molly sighed. "You were there."

"No...it was something else. I can't explain it. She was talking about these dreams she's been having and I. . .there's just more to it, okay?"

The raven haired girl frowned. "Do you want there to be more to it, Chris?"

Seeing the hurt on her face, Chris shook his head. "No, Molly, no. That's not it. That's not what I meant. I meant for her. For her there's more. For me. . .there's you."

To emphasize his point, he moved in toward her, his lips brushing against hers. The electricity in the kiss, the heat, was almost tangible. When he reluctantly pulled his mouth from hers, Chris smiled softly. "I love you."

"I love you too." Molly raised an eyebrow. "But, that kiss isn't going to distract me, Mr. Halliwell. The fact of the matter is, Casey belongs in this fight and you are sorely outnumbered."

"I've noticed."

"So is Zayel. He's going to die. Your family and the Winchester brothers are going to make sure of it."

Chris nodded before a slow grin began to form. "The others are still preparing some final plans for the fight. It's been a while since we had any time to ourselves. We could let Wyatt babysit and maybe. . ."

Molly blushed.

"No?"

When she pulled his mouth to hers, Molly answered his question the best way she could.

After dropping Lucky off with Wyatt and Casey, Molly and Chris retreated to the witchlighter's bedroom for some much needed private time, which they used to reconnect. Twice.

tbc. . .


	59. Taking Care of Business

CHAPTER 59

**Taking Care of Business**

Piper, Phoebe and Paige had been in the underworld for twenty minutes. In that time, they'd vanquished three stray demons, twelve lower level minions Zayel kept around as a first line of defense and a group of upper levels whose loyalty to Zayel made them particularly dangerous.

Paige, leaning against a nearby wall, shook her head. "I don't know about you guys, but this so was not as easy as it used to be."

Phoebe wrinkled her nose. "My back kinda hurts. . ."

Piper snorted. "Listen to you two. You're talking like a couple of old ladies."

"Oh, so you're not tired and sore and dreaming about a nice hot bath right about now?" Phoebe challenged.

"Of course I am," the eldest replied. "But you don't hear me complaining. The boys have the hard part. We're just keeping the other demons busy."

Paige's voice went soft. "Are they ready for this kind of battle, Piper?"

"Were we?" she asked. "All I know is my boys are strong, capable witches. This is their fight. I have to let them do it their way. Even if what I really want to do is lock them in their rooms and never let them out."

"When do we go back topside?" Paige wondered. "It's been awhile. Shouldn't the main attraction have started by now?"

"Prue said she'd orb down and let us know as soon as it was time," Piper answered.

Orb lights filled the air materializing into the former Charmed One.

"She's good," Paige said, impressed.

Prue was all business as usual. "Chris and Wyatt just reached the location. Head back to the manor. Dean and Sam are waiting for you."

Without another word, the whitelighter was gone.

Paige wrinkled her nose. "Was she always like that?"

"Yes," came the simultaneous replies.

"Huh."

"Just orb already, huh?" Piper ordered, taking one of Paige's arms as Phoebe took the other.

"That's all I am to you, isn't it?" Paige grumbled.

"Now, Lady," Piper snapped.

Paige rolled her eyes but did as told. While a lot had changed over the years, her older sister wasn't one of them.

()()()()

Zayel paced the cavern, his eyes flicking over his rapidly dwindling numbers. The Charmed Ones hadn't lost their touch. They'd halved his defense in the blink of an eye. He hadn't expected that. The three witches were retired; they hadn't come to the underworld since their progeny had been small children. It seemed he'd counted them out too soon. He should have known the Charmed Ones would be in on this fight. Their family never fought alone.

"Sir," a thin darklighter called, running in. "It's the Twice Blessed and his brother. They're here."

"Both of them?"

"Yes, Sir. The Twice Blessed Witch is going to bring the entire cavern down on us. His powers are too much."

"The entire cavern?" Zayel repeated, a wicked smirk forming. "Not a bad idea. . ."

"Sir?"

"Get a group of your peers ready, and take fire at the younger brother. _Only_ the younger brother. If one dies, it has to be him."

The minion frowned. "But, Sir, wouldn't it be far more advantageous to take out the older brother?"

"If you think you can, you've never read the prophesies. The younger brother will be his undoing. Kill Chris Halliwell and Wyatt will self-destruct. If he attacks you, keep close to the cavern ceiling. They aren't to leave here, understood?"

The darklighter grinned. "Get him to hit the support structure with that blast of his, Sir?"

"Not all minions are stupid it appears," Zayel mumbled.

As the darklighter bowed and black orbed back to the fight, Zayel allowed a smile. "Apparently, they will let some fend for themselves." He clucked his tongue. "Leaving the child and his mother alone and unprotected. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy."

He then flamed out of the cavern.

()()()()()

"Okay, this? So not fair," Chris complained, orbing in and out for the hundredth time in order to avoid being struck by a poison arrow aimed at his head.

Wyatt flicked out his hands, aiming at the darklighters attacking his little brother, but each time he'd send a blast wave they'd disappear, reappear elsewhere and shoot off another string of arrows at Chris. This time was no different. "Shit."

Chris reappeared a few feet from where he'd been standing before, but as soon as he materialized, an arrow ripped through the top of his shoulder, tearing off a chunk of flesh before embedding itself in the wall behind him. He cried out, stumbling back slightly.

Chris' pause brought on an onslaught of arrows, all flying through the air right at him. Wyatt struggled to blast them while still keeping the darklighters on some sort of defensive. Which was why another arrow stuck straight into Chris' side, bringing the teen crumpling to the ground.

Everything slowed for Wyatt. He could see the arrow plunge into his brother, sending the lankier boy stumbling backward. Chris fought to stay on his feet, but the poison from the first arrow was already having an affect, and soon, Chris was on his knees. Blood was starting to soak his shirt from the second arrow. Soon, Chris collapsed entirely.

"Chris, no!"

The cavern shook as the Twice Blessed's total power was brought to bear. Every demon was incinerated at the same time, their cries muffled by the sound of the roaring cavern walls.

"Wyatt. . ."Chris coughed, his face pained.

The older brother rushed to his little brother's side. Dropping to his knees, Wyatt held his hands over the wounds, sweat pouring down his forehead at the effort of healing them. He'd used too much of himself on that last attack, and the golden glow wasn't coming as quickly as it normally did.

"Go," the younger boy breathed, "manor."

"Shut up, Chris. I've got to heal these before the poison gets too far."

"Casey . . ."

"Will be fine until we _both_ get there."

Chris' head lolled, his injuries catching up to him too fast for Wyatt's liking.

A chunk of the ceiling came crashing down next to Wyatt, making him jump. He shook his head, returned his hands to the wounds and kept concentrating. "Come on, damn it. Glow."

Chris' eyes fell shut, his breath barely coming out. His face was pallid, beads of sweat forming on his brow as the blood from his wounds kept spreading the poison through his body.

"Hold on, Chris. Almost there."

The glow came to Wyatt's hands, the wounds on his brother slowly started fading, and then everything went black for the Twice Blessed.

Chris' eyes flickered back open, and he struggled to focus his blurred vision enough to figure out what was going on. He saw Wyatt lying on the cold ground a few feet away. He tried to pull himself over to the other teen, the effort slow and labored. He was nearly at Wyatt's side when he saw the large piece of rock next to the blond's now blood matted hair.

"Shit, Wyatt, no."

Chris knew he had to get them out of here. He was the only one who could at this point. But the fatigue and pain were quickly burning through his reserve strengths. His hand reached, fought, struggled to make it to his brother. . .

And fell short.

()()()()

Casey slowly, gently rocked in the chair, her gaze on the little doll wrapped up in her arms. She smiled sweetly down, enjoying the calm before the storm. Just her and her little doll. Going back and forth. Back and forth. Nice and easy. She could do this. Wyatt and Chris would be back soon. Until then, she'd just keep rocking.

"How touching. I've always loved the sight of a mother watching her child die."

The young witch's gaze jerked up, eyes wide at the sight of her nemesis standing only three feet away, a fire ball at the ready in the palm of his hand. She jumped to her feet, making the doll in her arms cry piteously. Flicking out her hands again and again, she could only watch helplessly as Zayel broke her freeze over and over.

She backed up, panicked. "Just let us go. _Por fa._"

"I don't think so." He raised his hand, lifting the mother off her feet and hurling her backward into the wall. Her body struck with a sick crack. He smiled and moved closer, pulling a dagger from the air. "You've both been far harder to kill then you had any right to be. . ."

Casey cowered, holding her precious doll close against her breast. "No, no, no, no. Please."

"Continue to beg. It makes my day."

He stepped closer, closer, the dagger rising.

"Don't hurt me," Casey cried. "Take the baby. Just let me go."

The demon paused, a smile forming. "You'd really sacrifice your child to save your own life?"

The woman hesitated only briefly before answering, "Yes."

"I'm intrigued." He tilted his head ever so slightly. "I will spare your life, if you hand me the child and watch as I slit him open. No fighting, no tears."

"Just take him. I never wanted him."

Casey shakily rose to her feet, offering up the bundle in her arms. She moved back against the wall as the demon lifted up his prize. And when he pulled back the blanket to reveal the delicate flesh, Zayel was met with plastic.

The demon's red eyes lifted to meet Casey's fiery pair. "_Vete a carajos_," she cursed.

Zayel looked down just in time to see the plastic doll he'd been handed explode.

()()()()

Dean grinned as the blast sounded through the manor. "Niiice."

"I thought it was supposed to be a small one, just to knock him out?" Sam questioned.

The older hunter shrugged. "Guess I put in a little too much. Sue me."

"Dean, there's an innocent girl in that room. What if she got hurt?"

Dean ignored his brother, opting instead to find out for sure. He pushed open the door to the nursery to find Casey standing over an unconscious Zayel. She looked up at their approach. "He's not going to be out for long."

"Don't worry, when he wakes up, he's going to be about as dangerous as a kitten," Dean assured her.

Sam rolled his eyes, pulling out a piece of chalk and starting on a devil's trap. "Tie him up, would you?"

Dean did as he was told, securing the ropes then dousing them in holy water just for extra protection. "That's gonna hurt," he said, cheerfully.

"Are the Charmed Ones back yet?" Casey asked.

"Talking about us?" Paige asked, walking in. "So, the old switcheroo worked, huh?"

"So far so good," Phoebe breathed. "I just got off the phone with Prue, and Molly just put Mary and Lucky down for the night. Said they didn't even give her any problems. Andy and Leo are keeping a lookout for any stray demons that might have figured out they were there."

Casey nodded. "And the boys?"

Piper frowned. "They aren't back?"

"No."

Sam shared a look with his brother. He then turned to the sisters. "They were just supposed to scare Zayel into coming here, right?"

"Unless something went wrong. . ." Casey voiced, worried. "Piper?"

"Paige, do you sense them?" the eldest sharply asked.

"No. I wouldn't if they were in the underworld."

"Uh, guys, your little friend here is starting to wake up," Dean announced. "And I don't think he's going to be too happy."

The floor began to shake as soon as Zayel's eyes snapped open. The floorboards creaked and moaned as they started to pull apart.

"You really think this old parlor trick can hold a demon like me?" Zayel challenged as the devil's trap snapped, setting him free.

Dean and Sam pulled out their guns, opening fire, only to be sent hurtling backwards by an invisible force nearly immediately.

Piper flicked her wrists, blasting Zayel backwards. "Stay down," she growled.

"_Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis legio, et secta diabolica, Ergo draco maledicte et sectio. Ergo draco maledicte et legio secta diabolica. Ut Ecclésiam tuam secúra tibi fácias servire libertáte, te rogámus, audi nos._"

Sam, hand raised, continued chanting, watching as Zayel struggled against himself, his head going back as he screamed in pain.

"What the hell," Dean said, horrified, "he's not leaving."

"He's not that kind of demon," Paige explained, nervous. "All you're doing is seriously pissing him off."

Orb lights appeared, dropping to the ground and spitting out a bleeding Chris and an unconscious Wyatt. The younger boy looked up to his aunt, "Paige . . ."

"Oh my god," Piper breathed. She slapped her sister's shoulder, "Heal, now."

The younger sister didn't even need to be told the once before she was at their side, her hands glowing quickly and efficiently.

"He can't hold him much longer," Casey warned, noticing the way Zayel kept getting up faster and faster.

Piper held out her hands to her boys. "Pruedence, Penelope, Patricia. . ."

". . .Melinda, Astrid, Helena. . ." Wyatt picked up, slowly rising to his feet and taking her hand.

". . .Alora and Grace," Chris finished.

Together they chanted, "Halliwell witches stand strong beside us. Vanquish this evil from time and space."

Zayel, lit from the inside, his screams more deafening than ever.

Casey stared at the burning creature, tears in her eyes for all that he'd cost her. She moved forward, pulling out a potion. "You took everything from me. Now? I get a little back."

She threw the potion into the demonic fire, unmoving as the creature spun, twisted and turned in agony before going up in a vibrant blaze of blue flames before disappearing forever.

Wyatt moved to her side, his arm going around her shoulder. "It's finally done."

Casey looked over to Chris. "I think I"m ready to hold Lucky now."

"Your wish. . ."

()()()

Molly looked up as the jingle of orbs sounded in the night air. She was in the kitchen preparing a bottle. Lucky had woken up with a hungry tummy, so she was going to distract her fear by feeding the little boy. All of that went out the window when she saw her lover's face standing above her, tired but happy.

"You did it..." she breathed, hopeful.

Chris gave a small smile. "Yeah."

She ran to him, her arms going around his neck as her lips captured his. After an intense moment, she pulled back to rest her head against his chest. "There was a moment. . .I just felt like my heart stopped. I couldn't breathe and there was so much pain. . ."

"You sensed me?" Chris asked, amazed.

"It was real?"

"It was pretty bad there for a minute."

Molly held him tighter.

He smiled, kissing her hair. "I'm okay. Don't be scared."

"I know how you felt now," she whispered, hoarsely. "The thought of losing you. . .I don't know what I'd do. My life wasn't a life before you were in it, Chris. I can't go back to that."

Chris stroked her face with his thumb. "Never going to happen. I'm not going anywhere, and you're not allowed to either."

Molly smiled through her tears. "Deal."

"I love you," he whispered, huskily.

Her hands pressed against his chest, as though to make sure he weren't going to disappear, Molly shyly suggested, "Show me?"

So, he did.

()(()()()

Wyatt released Casey's waist as they materialized in Molly's room at Prue and Andy's. Lucky was wide awake and gurgling in his portable crib. Casey was at his side in an instant, picking him up and holding him close. She tucked his little head in the nook of her arm, smiling tearfully down at him.

"_Lucerito_," she half-laugh and half-cried. "I'm so sorry."

Wyatt sat on the bed, watching the beautiful moment play out.

The mother rocked her child without even knowing she was doing it, her natural instincts kicking in for the first time. She stroked the soft tuft of brown hair on his head, laughing as he gave her a baby smile. "I'm going to be better now. You'll see. I'm not going to fail you ever ever again, _Mijo_. I'll do whatever I have to. Anything for you."

The baby quieted, his eyes somber as he stared up at his mother.

Casey sat in the chair, tearfully smiling down at him. "I have loved you since before you were born. Have you felt any of that? I hope so. I've been rotten; I know, but I always loved you. You were never the problem, Lucky. I was. I was so scared. All the time. I didn't think I could protect you, that I'd hurt you. But, I did it. I finally did _something_ to stop this vicious cycle I've been trapped in. Things are going up from here, _Lucerito_. I swear."

"He knew."

Casey looked up. "What?"

Wyatt's voice was gentle. "He knew, Case," he repeated. "You might not have been able to show it, but no one ever doubted how much you loved your son."

"I have so much to make up for. . ."

"He's only a month old. He won't even remember."

Casey's eyes grew sad. "But I will. I'm his mother. I should've been the one feeding him and rocking him and comforting him this whole time. Not Molly."

Wyatt rose from the bed and went to kneel in front of her. He took her hands. "You had to take care of yourself before you could take care of Lucky. You weren't ready before. You are now. The past is finally buried for you. You can let it all go. So, let it go."

She bit her lip, struggling against the tears.

"Let it out," he urged.

Casey's eyes lifted to the ceiling. "I miss you so much, _papi_. You should be here. You should've seen your _nieto_. But, you do, don't you? You see him? You're with us always. I know you are. But you can rest now, _papi_. We all can. The monsters gone. . .and he'll never hurt us again."

tbc. . .

wow, that was a lot to get in there. hope it worked for ya ;)


	60. Heaven is a Place on Earth

CHAPTER 60

****

Heaven is a Place on Earth

Molly was pretty sure this was heaven. When she'd died, she'd thought the place with all the clouds and soft light had been heaven. She'd been wrong. The real heaven as she knew it was where she was now– in the arms of the only man she would ever love.

Chris kissed her neck and she could almost picture the crooked grin on his face. She adjusted herself in his arms so she could look back at him. "You're awake."

"Mhmm." He kissed the top of her shoulder.

"And frisky," she noted.

"Mhmm," he agreed, moving his attentions to her lips.

Molly nearly gave in to his whim right then and there. His kisses had always made her head fog up. She could barely remember to breathe. Today, she had to try, though. So, against a very powerful urge to stay here and indulge her lover's wishes, Molly pulled back. "Are you forgetting where we have to be today?"

Chris frowned, thinking. It hit him quickly enough. "Oh shit."

"Casey's going to kill you, if you're late."

"I'm not going to be late," Chris mumbled, sitting up. "I just temporarily spaced out the date."

"You should go shower. I'll head back home and do the same, and then we can meet back in the attic."

Chris grew a wicked grin. "Oooor, we could just kill two birds with one stone. . ."

Molly blushed. "Do you ever think about anything else?"

"I'm a red-blooded American male. Clearly, not." He took her hand, kissing the palm. "But, you're probably right. You're pretty distracting, and I have a lot to do still."

"I'll get there early to help out too."

"Sounds good."

"You're still not moving."

"I know. I'm working on it." His lips moved to her finger tips, lightly teasing them.

Molly laughed, shaking her head. "Chris Halliwell, you are really impossible sometimes."

"You wouldn't have me any other way."

She lightly pushed him away. "Go, or I will orb you into a cold lake."

Chris sighed. "Fine. Have it your way." He kissed her sweetly before slowly climbing free of the sheets and moving for the bathroom. He paused in the doorway. Turning around he smiled. "Today is going to be a really good day, isn't it?"

"Your little boy is having his Wiccaning. It's going to be a perfect day."

()()()()

"This is going to be a complete disaster," Casey declared.

Wyatt sighed from his place on the sofa in the attic of Halliwell Manor. Putting down the newspaper, he gave her his undivided attention.

"I haven't vanquished half the demons on the list Piper gave me. Not to mention the fact your Grams thinks I'm some little hussy that messed up her precious grandson's life. Did you _hear_ what she said to me earlier?"

"She didn't really mean air-head floozy. She meant. . ." He struggled to put a spin on it. He couldn't. "Okay. So, she isn't your biggest fan. So, what? This day is about my nephew, and he's happy as can be." He looked over to the little one in his swing. "Aren't you?"

As if just to spite his uncle, Lucky started to cry. Loudly.

Casey was at his side in a flash, the baby in her arms a split second later. She lightly bounced him as she slowly walked back and forth. "Shhh. _Esta bien, mijo_. I know. I know. Life is just so hard for a little one, isn't it? Yeah. That's okay; Mommy's got you now."

The little boy's eyelids were heavy as he fought to keep them open. They closed for a moment, but the baby immediately snapped them wide open and started to wail, arms and legs swinging and kicking in protest.

"I'm going to go lay him down," Casey said, heading toward the door.

She was cut off by Grams who narrowed her eyes at Casey. "Why isn't this poor child in his crib? He clearly needs a nap. I would think even the likes of you would know that."

Casey bit her tongue, looking to Wyatt for help.

The Twice Blessed jumped to his feet. "You know what, Grams, you are so right. Why don't you go lay him down? He just loves his great Grams so much. I bet he'd take a really good nap if you did."

The matriarch saw through her grandson's ploy. "No, no. I have far too much to do to help prepare for the wiccaning. Wyatt, would you, Darling?"

Grams snatched the baby from his mother's arms and handed him to Wyatt, the look in her eyes preventing him from arguing.

Shooting Casey an apologetic look, Wyatt orbed out with his nephew.

"We need to talk you and I," Grams stated, eyeing the girl. "Sit."

Too afraid to argue, Casey did as told.

Grams stood, towering over her, arms folded over her chest and looking every bit the part of the powerful matriarch of the Halliwell family. "I have to say," she started, "I don't like you. Not at all. You're a young girl, whose magic is second rate at best. Not at all right for my grandson. Either of them," she added knowingly.

She continued, "I've seen you toying with Wyatt's feelings all the while doe-eyed over his baby brother. You've created a terrible mess of things. Hurt my family. You have no business being any part of the Halliwell line."

"But," Grams allowed, "things are as they are. You are the mother of a beautiful new Halliwell, which, in a way, makes you one of us. As I see it, you have two options at this point. One, you keep on as you are, ruining lives– including your own– or option number two– you keep away from both of my grandsons and concentrate on being the best mother to my great grandson that you're capable of being."

Casey swallowed, hurt. She kept her eyes low.

"You may be a perfectly decent girl," Grams went on, "but my grandsons deserve more than that. Chris has found it with that whitelighter. He lights up whenever she's near. She would never get him in the trouble you did."

Casey couldn't argue with that.

"And Wyatt," Grams beamed with pride as she said his name. "His destiny is the greatest out of all of us. He's going to do wonderful things with his life. Even you should be able to feel how wrong you are for him. Can't you? After all, you'd just get in his way."

"You have no right," Casey lowly stated. Her tone was calm but firm. Her eyes finally met Grams'. "You can't just go around telling people who to love. If Wyatt knew, he'd never forgive you for it. Piper either. In spite of all the hurtful things we've done to each other, we still want to be together and that speaks of a strength in both of us. We love each other enough to fight for it. And I may not be as powerful as you, but I will not let you sit here and tell me to give up on Wyatt. I love him."

Grams suddenly smirked. "So, you have a little fire left in you after all. Good."

"Excuse me?" Casey stuttered.

"If you plan on being with _my_ grandson, you better keep that spirit. You'll need it." Grams smiled as she saw the girl's mouth drop open. She shrugged innocently. "What? I just wanted to make sure you were sure. Is that _so_ wrong?"

Casey didn't even know what to say to that.

Grams rose from her place on the couch. "Well, now that's out of the way, I have some demons to vanquish. After all, Lucas' wiccaning has to be perfect."

Just as quickly as the matriarch had come, she left.

Wyatt orbed in just then. He noted the absence of his Grams and the confused look on Casey's face. "You okay? What happened?"

Casey deliberately rose, walked over to Wyatt and pulled his lips to hers. When, after a good long kiss, she pulled back to look at him, she couldn't help but smile at the completely dumbfounded look on his face. "I've realized something."

Wyatt could only stare at her.

"I don't like who I've become. I don't like any part of it. Before all this happened, I had a fire in me. I showed no fear. I was spontaneous and a little reckless. Never pulled punches. Would rather get hurt than not try at all."

"I remember," Wyatt cautiously remarked. "It's why you and Chris were always getting into so much trouble."

"Yeah, there's that," she conceded, "but at least I didn't feel so pathetic all the time. Killing Zayel helped, but it's time to make an active choice to be like I was before, only wiser."

"Okay. . ."

Casey ran her hands up his chest and to his face where she kept them. Looking into his sky blue eyes, she solemnly declared, "I love you."

Wyatt closed his eyes, soaking in the words. When he opened them, he took her hands, kissing them. "Please, let this mean what I think it does."

"I'm done running in fear. No more living in the past. I want the future. What happened that night was one of the most awful things I've ever gone through, but you weren't the one to cause it. You were just as much a victim as me. When I think about what she did to you. . "

"Don't."

Casey pursed her lips, nervous. "I made a huge mistake giving up on us. It won't ever happen again. You are worth fighting for, Wyatt, and I plan to from here on out. That is. . .if you still want me."

"If?" He shook his head at her. "I've loved you for so long that there is no other option for me. You're it. You are the one I want. Period."

The two shared a kiss that revealed just how much they had missed one another during their time apart. It was soft but urgent, full of need and love. It was a kiss they would repeat again and again in the years to follow.

()()()

"He looks stupid in that," Chris whined, gesturing at the outfit Casey was currently placing on his son.

"You had your wiccaning in this," Casey argued.

"And I looked stupid."

Casey smirked. "Nothing's changed there."

"Ha. Ha. Real funny."

"Honestly though," she asked him, "isn't he adorable? The matriarchs are going to love him."

"Of course they will," Chris agreed. "What's not to love?"

Casey sighed. "I can't believe he's having his wiccaning today. It's just so. . .so. . ."

"Huge?" Chris asked.

She nodded.

Chris moved to stand next to her, putting his arm around her shoulders as they both looked down on their own private miracle. The two shared a moment as they looked down on the unexpected treasure of their lives. Without having to say so aloud, both knew they were blessed to have found light during the time when both of their lives had been so dark. Their son was a gift that would link them forever.

"You ready?" Chris finally asked.

Casey took a deep breath. "I think so." She looked down at the baby. "How about you, _Lucerito_? _Estas lista_?"

"He's our kid," Chris answered for him. "He's always going to be ready for anything." He took his son up in his arms, making the little boy smile. "Aren't you?"

Casey didn't point out the fact he'd answered even though she'd asked in Spanish. It was something he'd been doing more frequently lately. He was changing. Not dramatically enough to raise eyebrows, but enough for her to notice. She'd known him since they were children, so if anyone aside from Wyatt was going to see the minor differences, it would be her. He ate things he hadn't before, knew things he had no reason to know, and even behaved differently in some ways. So minor, but in all, it worried her.

"What?" Chris asked.

"Nothing," she answered. "Just thinking we ought to get him upstairs before your Grams bites my head off again."

"Don't worry about her. She didn't like me the first time we met either. Called me a greenhorn incapable of guiding her girls," he told her.

Casey frowned. "What? What are you talking about?"

"What do you mean?"

"When you first met your Grams? You were a baby."

Chris looked clearly confused. "Yeah, what about it?"

"You just said. . ." She stopped, realizing he had no idea what he'd just told her.

Chris frowned at her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good," she lied.

"Good. Let's go."

Chris took her hand and orbed the three of them up to the attic where the rest of the family was already waiting. Phoebe and her girls immediately started cooing over Lucky while Piper argued with Grams about the details of the wiccaning itself. Paige, Henry and their children congratulated Chris on the big day. Leo was busy reminiscing to Prue and Andy about how it seemed like yesterday that Chris was being wiccaned.

Molly smiled at Casey. "Hi. How you holding up?"

"Molly," she started in a whisper, "have you noticed anything weird with Chris lately?"

The whitelighter frowned, thinking. "No. Not really. Why?"

Casey sighed. "Nevermind."

"No, what's wrong?"

"Just, keep your eyes open, okay? My gut's telling me something's off."

Molly suddenly heard future Lucky's voice telling her how something was going to happen to Chris, but not to worry. He promised everything was going to be okay and that his father was in no danger. And to stop Casey from interfering.

Molly smiled brightly, "Sure. Don't worry."

In her mind, Molly realized just how hard it was going to be to keep her friend from figuring out something was up. She had promised Lucky, though. She would do her best to keep Casey's suspicions at bay.

"Hey," Wyatt greeted, his arms immediately going around Casey's waist as he came up behind her. "What are my two favorite ladies talking about?"

Before Casey could answer, Molly cut in, "Just how great the wiccaning is going to be, of course. Which, judging by the way your Grams is shooting us that look, I think is going to start now."

Grams moved to the center of the room, holding Lucky in her arms. "I call forth from space and time, matriarchs from the Halliwell line, mothers, daughters, sisters, friends, our family's spirit without end, to gather now in this sacred place and help us bring this child to grace."

Lights zipped around the room forming the spirits of matriarchs from across the expanse of time. Each woman smiled proudly and lovingly at the small bundle they had come to bless.

"The next generation has been born," Grams announced. "Our legacy is now even greater with the arrival of Lucas Perry Halliwell. So, we shall pledge to be with this child, apart but never separate, free but never alone. He is one of us, and we bless him with all the light and goodness that we are. Welcome to the family, Lucky."

"Blessed be," the matriarchs solemnly said.

"Blessed be," repeated the young parents of the child.

As the entirety of the Halliwell line, moved to grace the child, Casey and Chris stood to the side, proud.

Molly watched the scene before her and couldn't help but feel this was how it was supposed to be. Casey and Wyatt had found their way back together, and the way they looked at each other was all the proof anyone could need that theirs was a deep love. Chris, holding his son and smiling back at Molly with pure adoration was the best feeling in the world. The little boy that linked them all was gurgling and laughing, feeling perfectly safe and loved. If everything could stay just as it was, heaven really could be a place on earth.

For now, Molly was thankful. Thankful for the deeper love, the indescribable joy and the unusual friendship she'd found in the last year. She would hold onto that good fortune for as long as it lasted. This family was now her family. Now and forever


End file.
